THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


THE 


and  tlt^  j)p0n: 


A    TALE. 


BY   T.    S.    ARTHUR 


PHILADELPHIA: 
J.  W.  BRADLEY,  48  NORTH  FOURTH  STREET, 

1859. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1858,  by 
J.  W.  BRADLEY, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Eastern 
District  of  Pennsylvania. 


STEREOTYPED  BT  1.   JOHNSON  ft  CO. 
PHILADELPHIA. 


PHILADELPHIA ! 

BT  KINO   &   BAIRD, 
807  SANSOM   STREET. 


PS 


PREFACE 


WE  think  few  mothers  can  read  this  volume 
out  being  struck  with  the  great  importance  of  care 
in  regard  to  the  dispositions  and  moral  qualities  of 
those  into  whose  hands  they  place  their  children. 
There  are  sad  disorders  in  society  at  the  present  time, 
and  influences  of  a  baleful  character  at  work :  above 
all  things,  let  tender,  innocent  children  be  kept 
wholly  beyond  their  sphere.  In  but  rare  cases 
should  there  be  a  delegation  of  the  mother's  duties : 
extreme  ill  health  is,  perhaps,  the  only  excuse  for 
such  delegation ;  but  when  it  is  made,  let  the  nurse 
or  governess  be  of  known  pure  life  and  firm  integ 
rity.  There  should  be  no  guess-work  here;  n 
trusting  of  a  stranger,  unless  under  the  amplest 
testimonials  from  known  parties;  for  wrong  done 
to  childhood  is,  too  often,  wrong  done  for  the  whole 
life.  But  we  can  only  hint  here  at  what  we  have 
endeavored  to  illustrate  in  the  present  volume. 

l*  6- 


CONTENTS. 


PAOB 

CHAP.  I. — THE  YOUNG  GOVERNESS 9 

II. — GAINING  INFLUENCE 21 

III. — TRIALS 32 

IY. — WORTH  AND  PRETENSION 40 

Y. — THE  WIND  AND  THE  SUN 48 

YL — THE  GOVERNESS  DISMISSED 60 

YIL — A  REVELATION 71 

YIII. — THE  NEW  GOVERNESS 82 

IX. — THE  SHADOW  OF  EVIL 91 

X. — A  LITTLE  BREEZE 101 

XI. — THE  DEMON  UNVEILED 108 

XII. — A  FEARFUL  MYSTERY 119 

XIII. — DOUBT  AND  ANXIETY 127 

XIY. — PAINFUL  CONSEQUENCES 138 

XY. — ALARMING  OCCURRENCE 150 

XYI. — DISAPPEARANCE  OF  MADELINE 158 

7 


8  CONTENTS. 


PAOB 


CHAP  XVII. — THE  SEARCH 165 

XVIII. — A  NEST  OP  PSUEDO-SPIRITUAUSTS 189 

XIX. — THE  BIRD  AND  THE  SERPENT 204 

XX. — THE  RESCUE 215 

XXL— THE  ARREST 223 

XXIL — BREAKING  THE  SPELL 236 

XXIII. — THE  ANGEL  STRONGER  THAN  THE  DEMON   245 

XXIV. — AN  UNEXPECTED  REVELATION 269 

XXV. — A  REVELATION 278 

XXVI. — REVIEWING  THE   MATTER 287 

XX  VII.— GETTING  RIGHT 298 

XXVIII. — CONCLUSION ,.    304 


THE 

ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  YOUNG   GOVERNESS. 

MRS.  DAINTY'S  health  was  poor,  and  her  nerves 
delicate.  It  was  no  use,  she  said:  the  wear  and 
tear  of  body  and  mind  were  more  than  she  could 
stand.  She  must  have  a  governess  for  the  children. 
Mr.  Dainty  never  opposed  his  wife  in  any  thing, 
and  so  replied, — 

"Very  well,  Madeline.    Find  your  governess." 

But  Uncle  John — Uncle  Johns,  by-the-way,  if 
they  happen  to  be  on  the  mother's  side,  and  old 
bachelors  at  that,  are  proverbially  inclined  to  inter 
fere  with  the  home-management  of  their  nieces — 
had,  as  usual,  a  word  to  say  after  he  was  alone  with 
Mrs.  Dainty. 

"Don't  have  any  thing  of  the  kind,"  said  he.  "  Be 
governess  to  your  own  children." 

"But  I'm  not  equal  to  the  task.    It  will  kill  me. 


10         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


See  how  thin  and  pale  I  am  getting;  and  my  nerves 
are  in  a  terrible  condition." 

"No  wonder." 

"Why?" 

"Dissipation  will  destroy  any  woman's  nerves. 

"  Dissipation !    Why,  Uncle  John ! ' ' 

"How  many  nights  were  you  out  last  week?" 

"  Only  three." 

"Only  three!  and  each  time  until  long  after 
midnight.  Dancing,  late  hours,  hot  suppers,  and 
confectionery!  No  wonder  your  nerves  are  shat 
tered!  Such  a  life  would  kill  me  up  in  half  a 
year." 

"Well,  in  my  case,  it  is  all  that  keeps  me  going. 
These  social  recreations,  coming  at  intervals  upon 
the  enervating  cares  of  domestic  life,  give  new  vi 
tality  to  the  exhausted  system." 

"Filigree  and  nonsense!"  replied  Uncle  John, 
impatiently.  "  You  know  better  than  to  talk  after 
this  fashion." 

And  so,  for  the  time,  the  debate  closed  between 
them. 

Meeting  with  no  opposition  from  her  husband, 
Mrs.  Dainty  proceeded  at  once  to  the  work  of  pro 
curing  a  governess.  Among  her  fashionable  friends 
she  first  made  inquiry,  but  in  no  direction  could 
she  hear  of  the  right  individual.  The  qualification  a 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         11 


were  set  forth  at  large.  She  must  speak  French 
with  the  true  Parisian  accent,  and  be  able  to  teach 
that  language;  her  knowledge  of  music  must  be 
thorough;  she  must  be  perfect  in  drawing  and 
painting ;  her  manners  must  be  ladylike,  her  tastes 
refined:  in  a  word,  she  must  possess  all  the  high 
accomplishments  necessary  to  educate  the  children 
of  a  fashionable  mother  who  was  "in  society."  She 
would  greatly  prefer  a  Frenchwoman. 

At  last  she  heard  of  a  "French  lady,"  the  daughter 
of  a  French  count  of  the  old  regime,  who  was  de 
sirous  of  procuring  the  situation  of  governess  in  a 
family  of  "good  standing."  An  interview  with  this 
lady  was  held  in  the  presence  of  Uncle  John,  who 
took  occasion  to  ask  her  some  questions  about 
Paris,  where  he  had  spent  several  years.  The  stately 
manner  and  superior  air  which  she  assumed  at  the 
commencement  of  the  interview  gradually  gave 
way  under  these  questions,  until  madame  showed 
considerable  embarrassment. 

"Your  face  is  very  familiar  to  me,"  said  Uncle 
John,  finally.  "I  am  sure  I  must  have  met  you  in 
Paris."  • 

"Monsieur  is  undoubtedly  mistaken,"  said  the 
lady,  with  returning  dignity. 

"Perhaps  so,"  replied  Uncle  John.  Then,  in  a 
more  serious  voice,  he  added,  "But  one  thing  is 


12         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


certain :  you  do  not  possess  the  qualifications  desired 
in  the  governess  of  my  nieces." 

The  "French  lady"  offered  JLO  remonstrance,  and 
asked  for  no  explanations,  but,  with  a  flushed  face, 
arose  and  retired. 

"Better  keep  clear  of  counts'  daughters,"  said 
Uncle  John,  as  the  applicant  withdrew.  "If  you 
will  have  a  governess  for  the  children,  procure  one 
born  and  bred  so  near  at  home  that  you  can  readily 
learn  all  about  her." 

Mrs.  Dainty,  who  was  particularly  attracted  by 
the  appearance  of  the  French  lady,  was  not  alto 
gether  pleased  with  Uncle  John's  summary  mode 
of  despatching  her,  though  a  little  startled  at  the 
idea  of  getting  an  impostor  in  her  house. 

What  next  was  to  be  done  ?  "  Suppose  we  adver 
tise?"  said  Mrs.  Dainty. 

"And  have  your  bell- wire  broken  before  ten 
o'clock  the  next  morning,"  replied  Uncle  John. 
"Take  my  advice,  and  wait  a  few  days." 

"What  good  will  waiting  do?  Unless  we  take 
Borne  steps  in  the  direction  we  wish  to  go,  we  shall 
never  arrive  at  the  end  of  our  journey." 

"  Good  steps  have  been  taken,"  said  Uncle  John, 
cheerfully.  "You  have  already  made  known  to 
quite  a  number  of  your  friends  that  you  want  a 
governess.  The  fact  will  not  die;  many  will  re- 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         13 


member  and  speak  of  it,  and  somebody  will  happen 
to  think  of  somebody  who  will  just  suit  you." 

So  Mrs.  Dainty  concluded  to  wait  a  few  days,  and 
see  what  time  would  bring  forth. 

On  the  third  morning  after  the  interview  with  the 
French  count's  daughter,  as  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dainty 
and  Uncle  John  sat  talking  together  on  the  gover 
ness-question,  the  waiter  opened  the  door,  and  said 
that  a  young  woman  wished  to  speak  with  Mrs. 
Dainty. 

"  "Who  is  she,  and  what  does  she  want  ?"  inquired 
Mrs.  Dainty,  with  an  air  of  indifference,  stroking 
the  head  of  her  King  Charles  spaniel,  which,  instead 
of  her  baby,  occupied  a  comfortable  position  in 
her  lap. 

The  servant  went  down  to  gain  what  information 
he  could  from  the  visitor  touching  her  business 
with  Mrs.  Dainty,  and  returned  with  the  informa 
tion  that  she  was  an  applicant  for  the  situation  of 
governess  in  the  family,  having  been  informed  that 
the  lady  wanted  a  person  in  that  capacity. 

"Tell  her  to  come  up,"  said  Mrs.  Dainty.  "I 
wonder  who  she  can  be  ?"  was  added,  as  the  servant 
withdrew. 

Uncle  John  sat  with  his  chin  resting  on  the  head 
of  his  cane,  apparently  so  much  engaged  with  hia 


14         THE  ANGEL  AND  THB  DEMON. 


own  thoughts  as  to  be  unconscious  of  what  was 
passing. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  door  reopened,  and  a  young 
woman  in  plain  attire,  and  of  modest,  almost  timid 
aspect,  entered.  Mr.  Dainty  was  standing  with  his 
back  to  the  fire ;  Mrs.  Dainty  sat  in  her  morning 
wrapper,  with  the  King  Charles  spaniel  still  in  com 
fortable  quarters ;  and  Uncle  John  remained  in  the 
same  position,  not  stirring  as  the  girl  entered.  ^ 

"Take  a  chair,"  said  Mrs.  Dainty,  with  that  super 
cilious  indifference  which  imagined  superiority  often 
puts  on  toward  imagined  inferiors. 

The  girl  flushed,  trembled,  and  sat  down,  letting 
her  eyes  fall  to  the  floor. 

"What  is  your  name  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Dainty. 

"Florence  Harper,"  replied  the  girl. 

"Where  do  you  live  ?" 

"At  No.  —  Elwood  Street." 

"With  whom?" 

"My  aunt." 

"Are  your  father  and  mother  living?" 

"No,  ma'am."  Even  Mrs.  Dainty  felt  the  sadness 
with  which  this  reply  was  made. 

"I  am  in  want  of  a  governess  for  my  children," 
said  Mrs.  Dainty,  coldly;  "but  I  hardly  think  you 
will  suit." 

The  young  girl  arose  at  once. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.          15 


"Sit  down."  Mrs.  Dainty  spoke  with  a  slight  im 
patience.  The  visitor  resumed  her  chair,  while  Mr. 
Dainty  kept  his  place  before  the  fire,  with  his  eyes 
fixed  upon  her  curiously. 

"Do  you  speak  French  ?"  inquired  Mrs.  Dainty. 

"Yes,  ma'am." 

"What  French  school  did  you  attend?" 

"I  was  with  Mr.  Picot  for  six  years." 

"Indeed!"  There  was  a  new  interest  in  Mrs. 
Dainty's  voice. 

"How  is  it  in  regard  to  your  musical  qualifica 
tions  ?"  she  continued. 

"I  will  satisfy  you,  madam,"  said  the  applicant, 
in  a  quiet  but  firm  and  dignified  manner,  "in  re 
gard  to  my  ability  to  teach  the  various  branches 
of  a  polite  education,  by  references,  if  you  desire 
them." 

"Oh,  certainly!  I  shall  expect  references,  of 
course.  You  don't  imagine  that  I  would  take  an 
entire  stranger  into  my  house  without  the  most 
rigid  inquiries  touching  her  character  ?" 

Miss  Harper  arose. 

"Do  you  wish,"  said  she,  "to  make  any  inquiries 
about  me  ?  Or  have  you  concluded  that  I  will  not 
suit  you  ?" 

"You  can  leave  your  references,"  replied  Mrs. 
Dainty. 


16      -    THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


The  names  of  two  ladies  were  given.  Mrs.  Dainty 
had  no  acquaintance  with  them,  but  she  knew  their 
standing. 

"That  will  do,"  she  replied. 

"  Shall  I  call  again,  or  will  you  send  me  word  if 
you  desire  to  see  me,"  said  the  young  girl. 

"You  may  call."  Mrs.  Dainty  spoke  in  a  very 
indifferent  manner. 

The  visitor  retired. 

"I  don't  like  her,"  said  Mrs.  Dainty. 

"Why  not?"  inquired  Uncle  John,  lifting,  for  the 
first  time,  his  chin  from  the  head  of  his  cane. 

"Too  plebeian,"  said  Mrs.  Dainty. 

"Nothing  but  a  countess  will  do  for  your  young 
hopefuls,"  retorted  Uncle  John.  "Plebeian!  There 
is  the  air  of  a  lady  in  every  movement.  Take  my 
advice,  and  learn  all  you  can  about  her;  and  I'm 
mistaken  if  you  don't  at  once  secure  her  ser 
vices." 

Mrs.  Dainty's  heart  was  set  on  having  a  governess ; 
and,  as  no  better  opportunity  offered  for  procuring 
one,  she  made  inquiries  about  Miss  Harper,  and  re 
ceived  encouraging  information.  A  family  council, 
consisting  of  herself,  husband,  and  Uncle  John,  de 
cided  in  the  affirmative  on  the  question  of  engaging 
the  young  lady,  who,  as  she  did  not  return  to  know 
whether  her  services  would  be  desired  or  not,  was 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         IT 


sent  for.  Terms,  duties,  and  the  like  being  dis 
cussed  and  settled,  Miss  Harper,  with  many  mis 
givings  and  strong  reluctance,  assumed  the  difficult 
and  responsible  position  of  governess  in  the  family 
of  Mrs.  Dainty. 

Three  children  were  placed  under  her  care: 
Agnes,  the  eldest  daughter,  now  in  her  fourteenth 
year ;  Madeline,  the  second,  eleven  years  old ;  and 
George,  in  his  sixth  summer.  Many  unwise  re 
marks  had  been  made  about  the  young  girl  in  the 
presence  of  the  children ;  and  when  she  assumed, 
formally,  the  charge  of  them,  she  perceived  at  a 
glance  that  they  held  her  in  contempt,  and  were 
not  in  the  least  inclined  to  obey  her  authority. 

The  first  day's  trials  were  severe  enough.  Mrs. 
Dainty,  in  whose  mind  there  was  a  foregone  con 
clusion  adverse  to  the  young  governess,  made  it  her 
business  to  be  present  with  her  for  some  hours 
while  giving  her  introductory  lessons  to  the  chil 
dren,  or,  rather,  while  making  her  first  efforts  to 
dive  into  their  minds  and  see  what  had  already 
been  stored  away.  The  mother  did  not  act  very 
wisely  during  the  time ;  for  she  was  not  a  very  wise 
woman.  Could  she  have  seen  the  image  of  herself 
as  it  was  pictured  in  the  mind  of  Miss  Harper,  she 
would  not  have  felt  very  much  flattered.  A  small 

portion  of  light  entered  the  region  of  perception 
B  2* 


18          THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


once  or  twice,  the  way  being  opened  by  a  quiet 
answer  to  some  remark  that  broadly  displayed  her 
ignorance.  One  result  followed  this  rather  meddle 
some  interference  on  the  part  of  Mrs.  Dainty.  Her 
respect  for  the  young  governess  was  materially 
heightened. 

On  the  second  day,  Miss  Harper  was  left  in  the 
undisturbed  charge  of  her  young  pupils,  and  she 
had  a  better  opportunity  for  studying  their  natures. 
Agnes,  the  oldest,  she  found  to  be  indolent,  proud, 
and  quite  ready  to  imitate  the  example  of  her 
mother  in  disrespectful  conduct  toward  herself. 
Madeline  was  of  a  gentler,  more  loving,  and  more 
obedient  disposition;  while  George  was  a  rude, 
well-spoiled  specimen  of  a  boy  who  showed  no  in 
clination  whatever  to  come  under  even  the  mildest 
discipline. 

"  She'll  never  do  any  thing  with  them,"  said  Mrs. 
Dainty,  in  a  confident  manner,  as  she  sat  alone 
with  her  husband  and  Uncle  John,  on  the  evening 
of  the  first  day,  and  talked  over  the  new  arrange 
ment. 

"Why  do  you  think  so?"  asked  Uncle  John. 

"  She's  too  young  and  inexperienced.  She  hasn't 
character  enough.  Agnes  is  almost  as  much  of  a 
woman  as  she  is." 

"Don't  be  too  sure  of  that,"  said  Uncle  John. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.          19 


"Agnes  will  have  to  live  very  fast  if  she  ever  over 
takes  Miss  Harper." 

"She's  rather  an  indifferent-looking  personage," 
remarked  Mr.  Dainty,  in  a  careless  way,  "  and 
hasn't  stuff  enough  in  her  for  the  management  of 
three  such  spirited  children  as  ours." 

Uncle  John  smiled. 

"You  are  quite  taken  with  her,"  said  his  niece. 
'I  haven't  had  much  time  for  observation,"  re 
plied  Uncle  John ;  "  but  the  little  I  have  seen  im 
presses  me  favorably.  Beneath  that  modest,  quiet, 
almost  timid  exterior,  there  lies,  if  I  am  not  mis 
taken,  far  more  reserved  power  than  you  imagine. 
Give  her  a  fair  chance,  second  her  efforts  in  every 
attempt  she  makes  to  bring  the  children  into  order 
and  subordination,  and  particularly  refrain  from 
the  slightest  word  in  their  presence  that  will  lower 
her  in  their  respectful  regard." 

Mrs.  Dainty  saw,  from  the  last  remark,  that  she 
had  erred  in  a  very  thoughtless  way;  and  her 
cheeks  burned  a  little  when  Uncle  John  added, — 

"  I  have  heard  something  of  Miss  Harper's  history 
from  a  lady  friend,  who  represents  her  as  a  very 
superior  girl,  and  says  that  she  was  raised  in  a  circle 
of  refined  and  highly-intelligent  people." 

"  Oh,  well,  we  can  give  her  a  trial.  Perhaps  she 
will  do,"  replied  Mrs.  Dainty,  in  a  languid  manner. 


20         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"  I'm  glad  she  has  been  raised  among  refined  people. 
My  greatest  fear  was  that  she  would  impart  vulgar 
manners  to  the  children." 

"I  don't  think  she  can  do  them  any  harm." 
Uncle  John  spoke  a  little  ironically. 

"I  hope  not,"  said  Mrs.  Dainty,  seriously;  and 
the  subject,  not  taking  a  turn  that  was  agreeable  to 
her,  dropped  of  its  own  weight. 

We  shall  see,  in  another  chapter,  some  of  the  re 
sults  of  this  new  arrangement  in  the  home  of  the 
fashionable  mother. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


CHAPTER  H. 

GAINING  INFLUENCE. 

HAVING  procured  a  governess  for  the  children, — 
even  if  she  were  not  all  that  was  expected  in  the 
individual  who  was  to  fill  so  important  a  place, — 
our  fashionable  mother  felt  a  weight  of  care  re 
moved  from  her  shoulders.  She  could  now  go  out 
when  she  pleased,  and  stay  as  long  as  she  pleased, 
and  not  suffer  from  the  troublesome  consciousness 
that  she  was  neglecting  her  children, — a  species  of 
dereliction  that  never  escaped  the  watchful  eyes  of 
Uncle  John,  who  had  no  hesitation  about  speaking 
plainly. 

Miss  Harper's  experiences  with  the  children  on 
the  first  and  second  days  were  not  very  encouraging ; 
and  this  was  particularly  so  in  the  case  of  Agnes, 
whose  conduct  toward  her  was  exceedingly  offensive. 

On  the  third  morning,  this  young  lady  positively 
refused  to  give  her  French  recitation  at  the  time 
required  by  Miss  Harper,  declaring  that  it  was  her 
wish  to  take  a  music-lesson.  She  had  overheard 
her  mother  and  Uncle  John  conversing  on  the  sub- 


22          THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


ject  of  Miss  Harper's  authority  over  the  children, 
on  which  occasion  Mrs.  Dainty  had  said, — 

"I  will  have  no  iron  rule  with  Agnes.  Miss 
Harper  must  treat  her  with  that  respectful  con 
sideration  to  which  a  young  lady  in  her  position  is 
entitled.  There  must  be  no  petty  domineering ;  no 
ordering  with  upstart  authority ;  no  laying  down  of 
law." 

"  Do  you  expect  to  be  always  present  with  Miss 
Harper  in  the  school-room?"  Uncle  John  asked 
quietly,  as  if  he  was  really  in  earnest. 

"Of  course  not!  What  a  preposterous  idea!" 
replied  Mrs.  Dainty. 

"  Then  Miss  Harper  must  have  authority  in  your 
absence."  Uncle  John  spoke  very  decidedly. 

"Agnes  will  never  submit  to  any  authority  from 
her." 

"Why  not  from  her,  pray?" 

"Because  Agnes  has  reached  an  age  when  she 
can  comprehend  the  wide  difference  between  their 
respective  stations.  She  is  almost  a  young  lady." 

"You  are  a  weak  woman,  Madeline,"  said  Uncle 
John, — "  a  very  weak  woman,  and  I  am  almost  out 
of  patience  with  you.  Now,  do  you  wish  to  know, 
plainly,  how  I  regard  this  matter?" 

"Not  particularly."  Mrs.  Dainty  gaped  as  she 
spoke. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         23 


"You  shall  know,  for  all  your  well-bred  indiffer 
ence,"  said  Uncle  John,  a  little  sharply.  "In  my 
opinion,  Miss  Harper  is  in  every  way  the  superior 
to  Agnes,  and,  if  I  am  not  vastly  mistaken,  will 
in  a  few  years  be  recognised,  in  society,  as  supe 
rior." 

"Society!"  Mrs.  Dainty  curled  her  lip.  "What 
do  you  mean  by  society?" 

"  Something  more  perhaps  than  you  mean,"  was 
answered.  "  Men  and  women  recognised  by  com 
mon  consent  as  superior  to  the  mass." 

""Well,  you  can  talk  as  you  please,  and  think  aa 
you  please,  Uncle  John ;  but  I'm  not  going  to  have 
Agnes  domineered  over  by  this  plebeian  girl,  and 
if  she  attempt  any  thing  of  the  kind,  she  will  get 
her  immediate  dismissal." 

All  of  this  was  heard  by  Agnes,  who  very  natu 
rally  made  up  her  mind  to  be  the  director  of  her 
own  studies  in  the  absence  of  her  mother. 

"I  wish  to  take  my  music-lesson  now,"  she  said, 
when  the  governess  asked  for  her  French  recita 
tion. 

"  From  twelve  to  one  is  the  hour  for  music,"  re 
plied  Miss  Harper,  mildly,  yet  firmly,  fixing  her  eye 
steadily  upon  the  eye  of  Agnes.  There  was  some 
thing  in  the  expression  of  that  eye  which  the  young 
lady  had  never  seen  before,  and  which  held  her  by 


24         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


a  kind  of  fascination.  It  was  not  anger,  nor  re 
buke,  nor  sternness,  but  the  quiet  power  of  a  su 
perior  mind  over  that  of  an  inferior.  Agnes  tried 
to  withdraw  her  gaze,  but  it  seemed  impossible  to 
do  so.  A  strange  feeling  of  respect,  almost  awe 
came  stealing  into  her  heart  and  repressing  her 
dominant  selfhood.  When  Miss  Harper  withdrew 
her  steady  gaze,  Agnes  almost  caught  her  breath,  so 
marked  was  the  sense  of  relief  that  followed. 

"  Madeline  dear,"  said  Miss  Harper,  in  a  cheerful, 
pleasant  voice,  speaking  to  the  younger  sister, 
"  shall  I  hear  you  read  now?" 

Madeline  came  smiling  to  her  side,  and,  lifting 
her  book  to  her  face,  read  the  lesson  which  had 
been  given  to  her. 

"Very  well  done!  You  are  improving  already." 
Miss  Harper  spoke  so  encouragingly  that  Madeline 
looked  up  into  her  kind  face,  and  said,  without 
thinking  of  the  place  and  the  occasion,  "  Thank 
you !"  The  young  governess  had  already  opened  p 
way  into  her  heart. 

"Now,  Agnes,"  said  Miss  Harper,  "if  you  are 
ready  with  your  French  lesson,  I  will  hear  it."  She 
spoke  kindly  and  cheerfully,  fixing  her  eyes  at  the 
same  time  steadily  upon  her,  and  with  the  same 
look  of  quiet  power  which  had  subdued  her  a  little 
while  before. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         25 


"I  would  rather  take  my  music-lesson  first." 
Agnes  could  not  yield  without  a  show  of  resistance. 
Something  was  due  to  pride. 

"  The  hours  of  study  were  fixed  in  consultation 
with  your  mother,"  said  Miss  Harper,  mildly;  "and 
it  is  my  duty  as  well  as  yours  to  act  in  conformity 
therewith." 

"  Oh,  mother  won't  care !"  Agnes  spoke  with 
animation.  "  If  I  prefer  this  hour  to  twelve  it  will 
be  all  the  same  to  her." 

"Your  mother  don't  care  for  her  word,  Agnes?" 
Miss  Harper  spoke  in  a  tone  of  surprise. 

"  I  didn't  mean  that,"  was  answered,  with  some 
little  confusion  of  manner.  "  I  only  meant  that  if 
she  knew  I  preferred  one  time  to  another  she  would 
not  hesitate  to  gratify  my  wishes." 

"Very  well.  We  will  consult  her  this  evening," 
said  Miss  Harper.  "And  if  she  consents  to  a  new 
arrangement  of  the  study-hours  I  will  make  no  ob 
jection.  But  at  present  both  you  and  I  are  bound 
to  observe  existing  rules.  I  have  no  power  to 
change  them  if  I  would.  So,  come  up  to  the  line 
cheerfully,  to-day,  and  to-morrow  we  will  both  be 
governed  by  your  mother's  decision." 

Agnes  was  subdued*  Without  a  sign  of  hesita 
tion  she  went  on  with  her  lesson  in  French,  and 
said  it  all  the  better  for  this  little  contention, 


26          THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


through  which  she  came  with  an  entirely  new  im 
pression  of  Miss  Harper. 

"When  the  young  teacher  came  to  George,  this 
little  reprobate  would  do  nothing  that  was  required 
of  him.  His  book  he  had,  from  the  commence 
ment  of  the  school-hours,  refused  to  open ;  replying 
to  every  request  of  Miss  Harper  to  do  so  with  a 
sullen,  "  A'n't  a-going  to." 

"Now,  George,  you  will  say  your  lesson,"  said 
Miss  Harper,  in  a  pleasant  tone. 

"A'n't  a-going  to,"  replied  the  little  fellow,  pout 
ing  out  his  lips,  and  scowling  from  beneath  his  knit 
brows. 

"  Oh,  yes ;  George  will  say  his  lesson." 

"A'n't  a-going  to." 

"Oh,  yes,  Georgie,"  said  Agnes,  now  coming  to 
the  aid  of  Miss  Harper.  "  Say  your  lesson." 

"A'n't  a-going  to."  His  lips  stuck  out  farther, 
and  his  brow  came  lower  over  his  eyes. 

"  Come,  Georgie,  do  say  your  lesson,"  urged 
Agnes. 

"A'n't  a-going  to."  The  resolute  will  of  the 
child  had  no  other  expression. 

"  I'll  tell  mother,"  said  Agnes. 

"  Don't  care !  Tell  her!  You  wouldn't  say  your 
lesson." 

"Oh,  yes,   Georgie,    Agnes   did  say  her    lesson 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.          27 


like  a  good  girl ;  and  so  did  Madeline."  Miss 
Harper  showed  not  the  least  excitement.  Her 
voice  was  calm  and  her  manner  even.  "  Now  say 
yours." 

"A'n't  a-going  to."  The  persistent  little  rebel 
had  no  idea  of  capitulation. 

"  I  knew  a  little  boy  once " 

There  was  such  a  pleasant,  story-telling  tone  in 
the  voice  of  Miss  Harper  that  George  was  betrayed 
into  looking  up  into  her  face,  when  she  fixed  his  eye 
as  she  had,  not  long  before,  fixed  the  eye  of  his  self- 
willed  sister. 

"I  knew  a  little  boy  once,"  she  repeated,  "who 
had  no  mother.  Before  he  was  as  old  as  you  are 
now,  his  mother  died  and  went  to  heaven.  Poor, 
dear  little  fellow !  it  was  a  sad  day  for  him  when 
his  good  mother  died  and  left  him  to  the  care  of 
strangers." 

George  was  all  attention.  Already  the  unpleasant 
lines  of  frowning  disobedience  were  fading  from  his 
childish  countenance,  and  a  gentle,  earnest  look 
coming  into  his  eyes. 

"After  this  little  boy's  mother  died,"  went  on  the 
governess,  "there  was  nobody  in  the  house  to  love 
him  as  she  had  done.  His  father  was  absent  all 
day,  and  very  often  did  not  get  home  in  the  even 
ing  until  poor  little  Willy  was  fast  asleep  in  bed. 


28         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


As  it  would  not  do  to  leave  Willy  alone  with  the 
cook  and  chambermaid,  his  father  got  a  governess, 
who  was  to  have  the  care  of  him  and  teach  him  all 
his  lessons.  Now,  it  so  happened  that  this  gover 
ness  was  not  kind  and  good  as  Willy's  mother  had 
been,  but  was  selfish  and  cruel.  She  gave  him 
long,  hard  lessons,  and  if  he  did  not  get  them — 
which  he  often  could  not — would  punish  him 
cruelly;  sometimes  by  shutting  him  up  in  a  dark 
closet,  sometimes  by  making  him  go  without  eat 
ing,  and  sometimes  by  whipping  him.  And  all  the 
while  she  managed  to  make  Willy's  father  believe 
that  she  was  kind  and  good  to  him. 

"Poor  little  Willy!  He  grew  pale  and  sad- 
looking,  and  no  wonder.  I  was  at  the  house  one 
day " 

"  Oh,  Miss  Harper !  Did  you  know  him?"  said 
George,  with  a  countenance  full  of  interest. 

"Yes,  dear,  I  knew  little  Willy;  and  I  knew  his 
mother  before  she  died.  As  I  was  just  saying,  I 
called  one  day  at  the  house,  a  few  months  after 
his  mother  was  taken  away  from  him ;  and,  as  the 
servant  opened  the  door  for  me,  I  heard  the  voice 
of  Willy,  and  he  was  crying  bitterly.  All  at 
once  the  voice  was  hushed  to  a  low,  smothered 
sound. 

"  ' What  is  the  matter  with  Willy?'  I  ask^d;  and 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.          29 


the  servant  answered  that  she  supposed  the  go 
verness  was  putting  him  into  the  dark  closet  again. 
In  an  instant  there  seemed  to  stand  before  me  the 
child's  dead  mother,  and  she  pointed  upward  with 
her  finger.  I  did  not  stop  to  think,  but  ran  up 
stairs  into  the  nursery,  where  I  found  the  go 
verness  sitting  by  the  window  with  a  book  in  her 
hand. 

"'Where's  Willy?'  I  demanded.  She  started, 
and  looked  very  much  surprised  and  a  little  angry. 
But  I  was  in  earnest. 

"  'Where's  Willy?'  I  repeated  my  question  more 
sternly.  As  she  did  not  stir,  I  went  quickly  across 
the  room  and  opened  a  closet  door,  which  I  found 
locked,  with  the  key  on  the  outside.  There,  lying 
on  his  face,  was  the  dear  child.  I  took  him  up  in 
my  arms  and  turned  his  face  to  the  light.  It  was 
pale  as  marble.  I  thought  he  was  dead. 

"  'Bring  me  some  water,'  I  called,  in  a  loud, 
quick  voice.  The  frightened  governess  fled  from 
the  room,  but  soon  returned  with  water.  I  threw 
it  into  the  dear  child's  face,  and  rubbed  his 
hands  and  feet.  In  a  few  minutes,  he  began  to 
breathe. 

"  'Give  him  to  me,  now,'  said  the  governess,  en 
deavoring  to  lift  Mm  from  my  arms.  But  I  said, 

'  No ;  cruel  woman !'    She  looked  angry,  but  I  was 

8* 


30         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


not  moved.  '  "Untie  my  bonnet-strings,'  I  spoke  to 
the  chambermaid;  and  the  girl  took  off  my 
bonnet. 

"  'Jenny,'  said  I  to  the  chambermaid, — I  knew 
her  name, — '  Jenny,  I  want  you  to  go  for  Willy's 
father.' 

"Jenny  did  not  hesitate  a  minute.  'There's  no 
use  in  sending  for  his  father,'  said  the  governess. 
But  we  didn't  mind  what  she  said.  When  Willy's 
father  came,  she  was  gone.  He  was  very  much  dis 
tressed  when  he  saw  his  dear  little  boy,  and  very 
angry  when  I  told  him  about  the  dark  closet.  After 
that  I  became  Willy's  nurse  and  teacher.  But  he 
did  not  stay  with  us  very  long.  The  angels  came 
for  him  one  lovely  summer  evening,  and  bore  him 
up  to  the  heavenly  land ;  and  he  is  now  happy  again 
with  his  mother." 

Tears  came  into  the  eyes  of  all  the  children  when 
Florence  Harper  ceased  speaking.  She  had  found 
the  way  to  their  hearts,  and,  not  only  this,  had  lifted 
for  them  just  so  much  of  the  veil  that  concealed  her 
true  character  as  to  let  them  see  enough  to  win 
something  of  love  and  something  of  respectful  con 
sideration. 

The  book  was  still  in  the  hand  of  George,  and,  as 
he  let  his  eyes  fall  from  the  face  of  Miss  Harper, 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.          31 


they  rested  on  the  open  page.  Nothing  was  said  by 
the  latter.  A  few  moments  of  silence  passed,  and 
then  George,  in  a  low  but  rather  earnest  voice,  said 
over  his  lesson. 

The  young  governess  had  conquered. 


32  THE  ANGEL   AND   THE   DEMON. 


. 

. 


fWJ  8  ill  ,9*£"i<*>»«J   /I 

.r.-jv-r    '   -' 

CHAPTER  HI. 

TRIALS. 

IT  was  late  when  Mrs.  Dainty  came  home.  Her 
husband  had  already  arrived,  and  was  waiting  for 
his  dinner.  George  and  Madeline,  pleased  as  chil 
dren  usually  are  when  the  visiting  mother  returns 
from  her  recreations,  crowded  around  her  with  their 
questions  and  complaints,  and  annoyed  and  hindered 
her  to  a  degree  that  broke  down  her  small  stock  of 
patience. 

"Miss  Harper!"  she  called,  in  a  fretful  voice, 
going  to  her  chamber-door. 

The  governess  heard,  and  answered  from  her 
room,  leaving  it  at  the  same  time,  and  coming  down 
toward  the  chamber  of  Mrs.  Dainty. 

"Call  those  children  away!"  said  the  mother, 
sharply.  "And  see  here !  When  I  come  home  next 
time,  don't  let  them  beset  me  like  so  many  hungry 
wolves.  I've  hired  you  to  take  the  care  of  them, 
and  I  want  the  care  taken.  That's  your  business." 

Mrs.  Dainty  was  annoyed  and  angry;   and  she 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.          33 


looked  her  real  character  for  the  time.  She  was  a 
superior,  commanding  an  inferior,  with  a  complete 
consciousness  of  the  gulf  that  stretched  between 
them.  Her  manner,  even  more  than  her  words,  was 
offensive  to  the  young  governess,  whose  native  in 
dependence  and  self-respect  impelled  her  at  once  to 
resign  her  position  and  leave  the  house. 

"George;  Madeline."  She  spoke  quietly, — almost 
indifferently. 

"  "Why  don't  you  call  them  as  if  you  had  some 
life  in  you?"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Dainty,  losing  all 
patience. 

Miss  Harper  turned  away  without  a  word,  and 
went  up-stairs,  intending  to  put  on  her  bonnet  and 
leave  the  house.  Near  her  room-door  she  met  Uncle 
John,  who  had  overheard  the  offensive  language 
of  his  niece.  He  saw  that  the  young  girl's  face 
wore  an  indignant  flush,  and  that  both  lips  and  eyes 
indicated  a  settl  :d  purpose. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?"  he  asked,  letting 
her  see  by  look  and  tone  that  he  understood  her 
feelings. 

"I  am  going  away  from  here,"  she  replied,  firmly. 

"You  must  not  do  it,"  said  Uncle  John. 

"Self-respect  will  not  permit  me  to  remain,"  an 
swered  Florence. 

"Feeling  must  yield  to  duty,   my  dear  young 
c 


34         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


lady,"  Baid  Uncle  John,  with  an  earnestness  that 
showed  how  much  he  was  interested. 

"My  duty  is  not  here,"  was  the  slowly-spoken 
answer. 

"Our  duty  is  where  we  can  do  the  most  good.  I 
know  something  of  your  morning's  trials  and  wise 
discipline.  You  have  done  nobly,  Florence, — nobly. 
There  is  good  in  these  children,  and  you  must  bring 
it  forth  to  the  light." 

"I  am  but  human,"  said  Florence,  with  a  quiver 
ing  lip. 

"You  are  gold  in  the  crucible,"  replied  Uncle 
John.  "  The  fire  may  be  very  hot,  my  dear  young 
friend ;  but  it  will  leave  no  mark  upon  your  real 
character.  It  is  not  every  spirit  that  has  a  quality 
pure  enough  to  meet  life's  higher  ordeals.  3$o,  no : 
shrink  not  from  the  trials  in  your  way.  The  lions 
are  chained,  and  can  only  growl  and  shake  at  you 
their  terrible  manes.  Go  back  for  the  children. 
For  their  sakes,  draw  them  to  yourself  with  the 
singular  power  you  possess.  Be  to  them  all  their 
mother  fails  to  be.  And  always  regard  me  as  your 
friend  and  advocate." 

Uncle  John  left  her  and  went  back  to  his  own 
room.  A  few  moments  Florence  stood  irresolute. 
Then,  stepping  to  the  head  of  the  stairs,  she  called 
to  George,  who  was  pounding  at  his  mother's  door. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         35 


Mrs.  Dainty  had  re-entered  her  chamber  and  locked 
it  against  the  children.  The  child  did  not  heed  her 
in  the  least.  Going  down  to  him,  and  taking  his 
hand,  which  the  stubborn  little  fellow  tried  to  pre 
vent  her  from  doing,  she  said,  in  a  voice  that  wa.  • 
very  kind,  and  in  a  tone  full  of  interest, — 

"  George,  dear,  did  I  ever  show  you  my  book  of 
pictures  ?" 

Instantly  the  firm,  resisting  hand  lay  passively  in 
hers ;  though  he  neither  looked  up  nor  answered. 

"It  is  full  of  the  sweetest  pictures  you  ever  saw, — 
birds,  and  sheep,  and  horses ;  ..children  playing  in 
the  woods ;  and  ducks  and  geese  swimming  in  the 
water." 

"Won't  you  show  them  to  me?"  said  the  child, 
turning  to  his  young  teacher,  and  half  forgetting, 
already,  in  the  pleasing  images  she  had  created  in 
his  thoughts,  his  angry  disappointment  in  being 
thrust  from  his  mother's  room. 

"Yes ;  and  you  shall  look  at  them  just  as  long  as 
you  please,"  answered  Florence. 

Madeline  had  thrown  herself  upon  the  passage- 
floor  in  a  stubborn  fit.  Her  mother's  discipline  in 
the  case,  if  the  child  had  remained  there  until  she 
came  from  her  chamber,  would  have  been  to  jerk 
her  up  passionately,  and,  while  passion  remained  in 
the  rapidly-acquired  ascendant,  inflict  upon  her 


36          THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


from  two  to  half  a  dozen  blows  with  her  hand. 
Wild,  angry  screams  would  have  followed;  and 
then  the  repentant  mother  would  have  soothed  her 
child  with  promised  favors. 

"Madeline  must  see  them  also,"  said  Miss  Harper, 
pausing  and  stooping  over  the  unhappy  little  girl. 
"Don't  you  want  to  see  my  picture  scrap-book?" 
She  spoke  very  cheerfully. 

"Oh,  yes,  Madeline!  Do  come  !  Miss  Harper  is 
going  to  show  us  a  book  full  of  such  beautiful 
pictures." 

The  voice  of  George  went  home.  Madeline  arose 
to  her  feet.  Taking,  each,  a  hand  of  their  gover 
ness,  the  two  children  went  with  light  feet  up  to  her 
room,  and  in  her  book  of  pictures  soon  lost  all 
marks  of  their  recent  unhappy  disturbance. 

Mrs.  Dainty  appeared  at  the  dinner-table  in  a  bad 
humor,  and  commenced  scolding  about  the  new 
governess. 

"  She'll  have  to  do  better  than  this,  before  I  am 
.  uited  with  her,"  she  said,  captiously. 

"What's  the  matter  now?"  asked  Mr.  Dainty,  in 
a  manner  that  exhibited  some  annoyance. 

" Matter !"  replied  his  wife.  "I  guess  you'd  think 
it  was  some  matter,  if,  when  you  came  in  late,  tired 
and  hungry,  the  whole  body  of  children  were  to 
hover  around  you  with  their  thousand  wants  and 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.          37 


complaints.  It's  Miss  Harper's  business  to  keep 
them  out  of  the  way.  She's  paid  for  doing  it.  I 
had  to  call  her  down  from  her  room,  and  when  I 
spoke  to  her  sharply  she  turned  herself  from  me 
with  an  air  of  offended  dignity  that  was  perfectly 
ridiculous.  The  upstart !  I  shall  have  it  out  with 
her  this  afternoon.  No  domestic  shall  treat  me  with 
even  a  shadow  of  disrespect.  I  scarcely  think  she 
comprehends  her  true  position  in  the  family;  but 
I  will  enlighten  her  fully." 

The  children  listened  with  wide  open  ears,  from 
Agnes  down  to  George.  Mr.  Dainty  made  no  re 
sponse,  and  Uncle  John  merely  remarked,  "  I  hope 
you  will  think  twice  before  you  act  once  in  this 
business  of  defining  Miss  Harper's  position  and 
making  yourself  clearly  understood.  My  advice 
is,  to  be  very  sure  that  you  understand  yourself 
first." 

There  was  nothing  to  offend  in  the  manner  of 
Uncle  John.  He  spoke  in  sober  earnest. 

"Mother,"  said  Agnes,  breaking  in  through  the 
pause  that  followed  Uncle  John's  remark,  "  did  you 
say  that  I  should  take  my  French  lesson  first?" 

"  No :  who  said  that  I  did  ?"  Mrs.  Dainty  answered, 
without  a  moment's  reflection. 

"  Why,  Miss  Harper  said  so,  and  made  me  give 
my  French  recitation  before  I  was  ready  for  it." 

4 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"I  said  no  such  thing."  Mrs.  Dainty  spoke  with 
some  indignation,  born  of  a  vague  notion,  from 
what  Agnes  had  said,  that  the  young  governess 
was  assuming  arbitrary  rule  over  the  children,  and 
falsely  quoting  her  as  authority.  "I  said  no  such 
thing !  What  does  she  mean  by  it  ?" 

"Well,  she  said  you  did,  and  made  me  say  a 
lesson  before  I  had  half  learned  it.  That's  not  the 
way  to  do !" 

"  Oh,  dear !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Dainty.  "  Here  comes 
the  trouble  I  feared !  Give  these  vulgar  people  a 
position  a  little  in  advance  of  what  they  have  been 
used  to,  and  forthwith  they  take  on  airs.  I  saw  it 
in  the  girl  at  the  first  interview.  I  knew  then 
that  she  wouldn't  suit,  and  if  my  judgment  hadn't 
been  overruled  she  never  would  have  come  into  the 
house." 

Mrs.  Dainty  glanced  toward  meddlesome  Uncle 
John  as  she  said  this.  But  Uncle  John  did  not 
seem  to  be  in  the  least  disturbed. 

"Agnes,"  said  he,  looking  across  the  table  at  the 
injured  and  complaining  girl,  "  what  lesson  did  you 
propose  to  recite  in  place  of  your  French  ?" 

Agnes  flushed  a  little  as  she  answered, — 

"  My  music-lesson." 

"Ah!  That  was  the  substitute.  What  about  it?" 
And  Uncle  John  turned  his  quiet  eyes  upon  the 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


countenance  of  his  niece.  "  If  I  am  not  mistaken, 
I  heard  you  tell  Miss  Harper  that  you  thought  the 
hour  from  twelve  to  one  the  best  for  music." 

"  Maybe  I  did,"  answered  Mrs.  Dainty,  pettishly; 
'  but  I  didn't  fix  it  as  a  law  more  binding  than  the 
statutes  of  the  Medes  and  Persians.  Something  was 
left  to  the  girl's  own  discretion." 

"And  I  think  it  will  be  found  on  examination," 
said  Uncle  John,  "that  she  used  the  discretion 
wisely." 

"Oh,  but  she  said" — Agnes  had  taken  her  cue 
.from  her  mother — "that  the  hours  for  study  had 
positively  been  fixed  by  mother,  and  that  she  had 
no  authority  to  vary  them  in  the  least." 

"Preposterous!"  ejaculated  Mrs.  Dainty. 

"What's  the  news  to-day?"  said  Uncle  John, 
turning  to  Mr.  Dainty.  "Any  thing  of  importance 
stirring  in  the  city  ?" 

He  wished  to  change  a  subject  the  discussion  of 
which  could  do  nothing  but  harm  among  the  children. 

The  answer  of  Mr.  Dainty  led  the  conversation 
into  an  entirely  new  channel.  Once  or  twice,  during 
the  dinner-hour,  Mrs.  Dainty  tried  to  renew  her 
complaints  against  the  governess ;  but  Uncle  John 
managed  to  throw  her  off,  and  so  the  matter  was 
dropped  for  the  time. 


40          THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

WORTH  AND   PRETENSION. 

THE  manner  in  which  Florence  Harper  met  the 
insolence  of  Mrs.  Dainty — we  give  her  conduct  its 
true  designation  —  chafed  that  high-spirited  lady 
exceedingly.  She  could  neither  forget  nor  forgive 
such  conduct  in  an  inferior.  "What  right  had  she  to 
exhibit  an  independent  spirit? — to  show  a  womanly 
pride  that  would  not  brook  an  outrage  ?  The  very 
thought  made  the  hot  blood  leap  along  the  veins 
of  indignant  Mrs.  Dainty.  Oh,  yes.  She  would 
"have  it  out  with  her!"  So,  toward  the  middle 
of  the  afternoon,  Florence  was  sent  for,  and  she 
went  down  to  the  sitting-room  where  Mrs.  Dainty 
was  alone.  Uncle  John  was  on  the  alert.  He  had 
remained  in  his  own  apartment,  listening,  with  the 
door  ajar,  for  nearly  an  hour,  and  heard  the  sum 
mons  given  to  Florence.  He  was  in  the  sitting-room 
almost  as  soon  as  she  was,  and  in  time  to  prevent 
an  interview,  the  result  of  which  would,  in  all  pro 
bability,  be  the  withdrawal  of  Miss  Harper  from  the 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         41 


family.  His  niece  looked  at  him  with  a  frown  as  he 
entered.  An  offensive  interrogation  was  just  on  her 
tongue,  but  she  repressed  the  words,  substituting 
therefor  this  query: — 

"  When  did  we  fix  the  hours  of  study  for  the  chil 
dren,  Miss  Harper  ?" 

"On  the  day  before  yesterday,  ma'am,"  replied 
Florence,  in  a  calm,  respectful  voice. 

"I  never  had  any  thing  to  say  to  you  on  the  sub 
ject  !"  Mrs.  Dainty  lost  temper,  and,  of  course, 
dignity  and  self-respect. 

"  Was  not  ten  o'clock  mentioned  by  you  as  the 
hour  when  it  would  be  best  to  commence  the  les 
sons?"  inquired  Florence. 

"If  it  was,  that  doesn't  mean  fixing  all  the  hours 
of  study !" 

"You  said  you  wished  Agnes  to  begin  with 
French,"  said  Florence,  quietly. 

"Well,  suppose  I  did:  what  then?" 

"  Only,  that  I  understood  you  to  mean  that  you 
wished  her  to  let  French  constitute  her  first  lesson 
as  most  important.  You  will,  no  doubt,  remember 
that  I  approved  this,  as  her  mind  would  always 
come  fresh  to  the  study." 

'  "Approved !"    Mrs.  Dainty  could  not  repress  this 
manifestation  of  contempt. 

"  You  will  also  remember,  that  you  spoke  of  the 
4* 


42         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


hour  from  twelve  to  one  as  most  suitable  for 
music." 

Miss  Harper  looked  at  the  excited  lady  with  a 
steady  gaze. 

"And  upon  that  you  based  a  set  of  arbitrary 
rules,  and  tried  to  enforce  them  by  representing  me 
as  their  author !" 

"No,  madam,  I  did  no  such  thing."  Florence 
drew  her  slender  form  up  to  its  full  height,  and 
looked  calmly,  steadily,  and  with  an  air  of  dignified 
self-respect  upon  Mrs.  Dainty.  "I  simply  remained 
firm  to  my  duty  when  Agnes  wished  to  begin  with 
music ;  and  said  to  her,  that  the  hours  of  study  had 
been  arranged  in  consultation  with  you,  and  that  I 
had  no  authority  to  change  them.  So  I  understood 
the  matter,  and,  in  my  action,  simply  regarded  the 
good  of  your  child.  I  did  not,  of  course,  permit  my 
pupil  to  direct  the  plan  of  study,  and  only  yielded 
a  reference  to  you  in  order  to  make. my  firmness  of 
purpose  the  less  offensive  to  her  pride.  And  you 
must  forgive  me,  madam,  for  saying,  that  it  is  neither 
just  to  me  nor  your  children  thus  to  react  upon  my 
honest  efforts  to  meet  your  wishes  in  regard  to  their 
studies,  and  serve  at  the  same  time  their  best  in 
terests  as  a  teacher.  I  wish,  for  the  sake  of  your 
children,  you  knew  me  better.  As  it  is,  if  you  de 
sire  me  to  remain  their  instructor,  you  must  either 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.          43 


fix  the  hours  and  subjects  of  study  in  so  plain  a  way 
that  no  one  can  mistake  them,  or  leave  it  altogether 
in  my  hands.  In  either  case,  I  will  guarantee  sub 
mission  on  the  part  of  the  children." 

The  outraged  pride  of  Mrs.  Dainty  broke  through 
the  pressure  of  involuntary  respect  which  the  dig 
nified,  resolute,  perfectly  independent  manner  of 
the  young  teacher  had  inspired,  and  the  word  "Im 
pertinent!"  was  on  her  lips,  when.  Uncle  John 
said, — 

"Miss  Harper  is  clearly  right,  and  I  am  pleased 
to  know  that  she  has  acted  with  so  much  firmness 
and  so  much  prudence.  She  is  entitled  to  praise, 
not  blame." 

Mrs.  Dainty  waved  her  hand  for  the  governess  to 
leave  the  room.  Without  a  word,  or  the  slightest 
apparent  hesitation,  Miss  Harper  retired. 

"Uncle  John  !"  Mrs.  Dainty  turned  angrily  upon 
the  old  gentleman  the  moment  they  were  alone,  "  1 
am  out  of  all  patience  with  you !  "What  chance 
have  I  to  command  respect  from  inferiors  in  my 
house,  if  you  step  in  to  justify  them  to  my  face  when 
I  am  attempting  to  blame  improper  actions?  It's 
an  outrage,  and  I  won't  have  it !" 

"  There  is  only  one  way  to  command  the  respect 
of  your  household,  Madeline,"  replied  Uncle  John, 
"and  that  is,  to  treat  them  with  kindness  and  jus- 


44          THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


tice.  You  may  demand  respect  from  those  whom 
you  regard  as  your  inferiors,  forever;  but,  unless 
your  actions  toward  them  be  marked  with  dignity 
and  ladylike  self-possession,  your  command  will  be 
no  more  heeded  than  was  that  of  the  old  British 
king  who  commanded  the  waves  of  the  sea  to  stop 
their  advancing  course.  Respect  or  contempt  is  an 
independent  thing,  and  always  has  free  course.  If 
a  lady  desires  the  first,  she  has  to  do  something 
more  than  utter  her  proud  behest.  She  has  got  to 
deserve  it ;  and,  if  she  fail  in  this,  she  will  surely 
have  the  last, — contempt." 

"I  don't  wish  to  hear  any  more  of  that,"  replied 
Mrs.  Dainty,  curtly.  "I  hardly  think  it  fair  to  seek 
a  justification  of  your  own  conduct  in  turning 
around  and  assailing  me.  What  right  had  you  to 
approve  Miss  Harper's  conduct  to  her  face,  when  I 
was  blaming  her  ?" 

"  The  common  right  which  every  one  has  to  drag 
another  from  the  brink  of  a  precipice  over  which 
he  is  about  blindly  casting  himself.  I  have  observed 
Miss  Harper  very  closely  since  she  has  been  in  the 
house,  and  at  times  when  she  could  not  be  aware 
of  this  observation.  When  you  have  been  in  the 
street,  I  have  been  at  home,  watching  her  deport 
ment  among  the  children ;  and  it  has  always  been 
kind,  wise,  and  consistent.  There  has  been  no 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         45 


shadow  of  that  domineering  spirit  of  which  you 
seem  so  nervously  afraid,  but  always  a  firmness  that 
knew  just  how  far  to  yield,  and  how  far  to  be  im 
movable.  I  happened  to  hear  all  that  passed  in 
regard  to  the  French  and  music  lessons.  Agnes 
was  all  to  blame,  and  Florence  was  all  right.  It 
was  beautiful  to  see  with  what  a  gentle  dignity 
Florence  met  the  efforts  of  Agnes  to  be  mistress 
instead  of  scholar,  and  how  wisely  she  subdued  the 
incipient  lady's  rebellious  pride.  She  gave  no 
offence  in  doing  so,  but  really  won  upon  her  kind 
feelings;  and,  but  for  the  opportunity  given  her 
pride  to  speak  out  its  mortification,  you  would  never 
have  heard  a  word  of  complaint. 

"You  will  thus  understand,"  continued  Uncle 
John,  "why  I  threw  in  a  word  of  justification  in 
time  to  prevent  the  utterance  of  language  on  your 
part,  which  would  inevitably  have  resulted  in  the 
loss  of  a  governess  for  your  children  who  has 
already  gained  more  power  over  them  for  good  than 
any  other  being  in  the  world  possesses.  And  now, 
Madeline,  let  me  warn  you  against  any  further  ex 
hibitions  of  passion,  pride,  or  contempt  toward  one 
into  whose  hands  you  have  committed  the  well- 
being  of  your  children.  Seek  to  elevate,  not  de 
press  her.  Treat  her  with  respect  and  considera 
tion,  and  your  children  will  do  the  same.  You 


46         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


make  her  the  guide,  counsellor,  and  companion  of 
your  children.  Think  of  the  vast,  influence  she 
must  exercise  over  them !  The  work  of  forming 
their  young  minds — of  directing  their  characters — 
is  in  her  hands,  not  yours.  The  mother's  high  pre 
rogative  you  choose  to  delegate  to  one  regarded  as 
an  inferior.  Happily,  in  this  case,  the  choice  of  a 
representative  has  not  heen  foolishly  made.  In  all 
respects  Miss  Harper  is  qualified  for  her  position, 
and,  if  sustained  in  it,  will  act  her  part  nobly.  She 
is  no  common  person,  let  me  tell  you,  but  one  of 
superior  mind,  high  moral  worth,  and  almost  perfect 
accomplishments, — in  a  word,  a  model  for  your  chil 
dren  !  But  she  is,  at  the  same  time,  a  young  woman 
with  too  much  self-respect  to  bear  your  haughty, 
insulting  manners.  If  you  wish  to  keep  her,  there 
fore,  you  must  not  repeat  the  offences  of  to-day." 

"Does  she  expect  me  to  curtsy  .every  time  I 
meet  her,  and  to  say,  'If  you  please,'  and  'By  your 
leave,  miss'  ?"  The  lips  of  Mrs.  Dainty  curled,  and 
he  looked  very  scornful. 

"No, — nothing  of  the  kind.  Only  that  you  shall 
treat  her  with  common  decency, — which  you  have 
not  done !"  Uncle  John  was  provoked. 

"You  are  quite  complimentary,  I  must  confess," 
eaid  Mrs.  Dainty,  with  an  offended  manner. 

"I  speak  the  truth,  and  that  is  always  the  highest 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         47 


compliment  I  shall  ever  pay  you,  my  foolish  niece !" 
retorted  Uncle  John,  who  used  his  prerogative,  in 
most  cases,  to  the  full  extent. 

"I  think  we  had  better  drop  this  subject,"  said 
Mrs.  Dainty. 

"Very  well;  let  it  drop  now.  I  will  renew  it 
again  when  your  feelings  are  less  excited  and  your 
judgment  less  obscured.  Only  let  me  repeat  my 
warning  about  Miss  Harper.  You  have  an  angel 
in  your  dwelling :  let  her  remain  to  bless  your  chil 
dren.  But  the  guest  will  not  remain  if  you  treat 
her  as  though  she  were  a  spirit  of  evil." 


18          THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


CHAPTER  Y. 

THE  WIND   AND   THE   SUN. 

"MOTHER,  can't  I  take  my  music-lesson  first?' 
said   Agnes.      It  was  on    the  morning   after  her 
fruitless  effort  to  be  mistress  instead  of  scholar. 

Mrs.  Dainty  was  in  the  middle  of  one  of  the  most 
absorbing  chapters  of  the  "Mysteries  of  Paris,"  a 
book  which  she  had  read  until  twelve  o'clock  on  the 
night  previous,  and  to  which  she  had  turned,  imme 
diately  after  her  late  breakfast,  with  the  eagerness 
of  a  mere  excitement-lover.  She  did  not  heed  her 
daughter's  question.  Only  the  sound  of  a  disturb 
ing  voice  was  perceived. 

"Mother!"  Agnes  uttered  her  name  in  a  loud, 
impatient  tone,  grasping  her  arm  as  she  spoke,  and 
shaking  it  to  attract  attention. 

"What  do  you  want,  you  troublesome  girl?" 
Mrs.  Dainty  turned  angrily  toward  her  daughter. 

"  Can't  I  take  my  music-lesson  first  ?" 

"I  don't  care  what  lesson  you  take  first!  Go 
away,  and  don't  disturb  me  !" 

This  was  the  mother's  thoughtless  answer.   Agnes 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         49 


glided  away  in  triumph,  and  Mrs.  Dainty's  eyes  fell 
back  to  the  pages  of  her  book,  unconscious  of  the 
meaning  of  her  reply. 

"I'm  going  to  take  my  music-lesson  first!"  said 
Agnes,  as  she  came  into  the  study-room,  where  Miss 
Harper  was  seated  with  George  and  Madeline.  And 
she  tightened  her  lips  firmly,  elevated  her  chin,  and 
tossed  her  head  jauntily,  while  from  her  clear,  dark 
eyes  looked  out  upon  her  teacher  a  spirit  of  proud 
defiance. 

"Very  well,"  replied  Florence,  in  a  voice  that 
showed  not  the  slightest  disturbance.  "At  twelve 
o'clock  I  will  be  ready  to  give  the  lesson." 

"I'm  going  to  take  it  now,"  said  Agnes,  drawing 
up  her  petite  form  to  its  extreme  height,  and  look 
ing,  or  rather  trying  to  look,  very  imperious. 

Miss  Harper  could  scarcely  help  smiling ;  but  she 
repressed  all  feeling,  and  merely  answered,— 

"  You  can  practise  your  scales  for  the  next  two 
hours,  if  you  prefer  doing  so,  Agnes.  At  twelve  I 
will  give  you  a  lesson." 

"  I'll  go  and  tell  mother  that  you  won't  give  me 
my  music-lesson !"  said  the  baffled,  indignant  girl, 
flirting  out  of  the  room. 

"Mother!"  She  had  grasped  the  arm  of  her 
mother  again. 

"Go  away,  and  don't  annoy  me!"     Mrs.  Dainty 


50          THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


threw  out  her  arm,  and  swept  her  daughter  away 
from  her  side. 

"  Mother !"  Agnes  had  pressed  back  again,  deter 
mined  that  she  would  be  heard. 

"  What  do  you  want  ?"  Mrs.  Dainty  dropped  her 
book  from  before  her  face,  and  turned,  with  anger 
flashing  in  her  eyes,  upon  her  daughter. 

"Miss  Harper  won't  give  me  my  music-lesson  !" 

"  Oh,  dear !  There's  to  be  nothing  but  trouble 
with  that  stuck-up  girl!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Dainty. 
"  I  saw  it  from  the  first," 

And,  tossing  her  book  from  her,  she  started  up, 
and  went  with  quick  steps  and  a  burning  face  to  the 
room  where  Miss  Harper  sat  with  the  two  children 
next  younger  than  Agnes,  who  were  leaning  upon 
her  and  looking  up  into  her  face,  gathering  intelli 
gence  from  her  eyes  as  well  as  her  fitly-spoken 
words. 

"See  here,  miss!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Dainty,  as  she 
came  sweeping  into  the  room,  "I'm  getting  tired  of 
this  kind  of  work,  and  it  must  end !  "What  do  you 
mean  by  refusing  to  give  Agnes  her  music-lesson?" 

"  Do  you  wish  her  music  to  precede  her  French  ?" 
Very  calmly,  and  with  a  quiet  dignity  that  rebuked 
the  excited  mother,  was  this  question  asked;  but 
Mrs.  Dainty  was  partially  blinded  by  anger,  and, 
obeying  an  ill-natured  impulse,  made  answer, — 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         51 


"I  want  no  airs  nor  assumptions  from  such  as 
you !  I  hired  you  to  instruct  the  children,  not  to  set 
them  by  the  ears.  I  saw  from  the  beginning  that 
you  wouldn't  suit  this  house, — that  a  little  brief 
authority  would  make  a  tyrant  of  you,  as  it  does  of 
all  vulgar  minds." 

Mrs.  Dainty  was  losing  herself  entirely. 

The  face  of  Miss  Harper  flushed  instantly,  and  for 
a  moment  or  two  an  indignant  fire  burned  in  her 
eyes.  But  right  thoughts  soon  find  a  controlling 
influence  in  all  superior  minds.  The  assailed  young 
governess  regained,  almost  as  quickly  as  it  had  been 
lost,  her  calmness  of  exterior ;  nor  was  this  calmness 
merely  on  the  surface.  She  made  no  further  remark, 
until  the  stubble  fire  in  Mrs.  Dainty's  mind  had 
flashed  up  to  its  full  height  and  then  died  down  for 
want  of  solid  fuel.  Then,  in  a  voice  that  betrayed 
nothing  of  disturbed  feeling,  she  said, — 

"If  it  is  your  wish,  madam,  that  Agnes  should 
take  her  music-lesson  first,  I  have  no  objection.  My 
duty  is  to  teach  her,  and  I  am  trying  to  do  so  faith 
fully.  But  things  must  be  done  in  order.  Establish 
any  rules  you  deem  best,  and  I  will  adhere  to  them 
faithfully." 

"Give  Agnes  her  music-lesson!"  Mrs.  Dainty 
spoke  with  an  offensive  imperiousness,  waving  her 
hand  toward  the  door. 


52         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


Miss  Harper  did  not  move. 

"Do  you  hear  me ?"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Dainty.  The 
fires  had  received  a  new  supply  of  stubble. 

"Fool!" 

Mrs.  Dainty  turned  quickly,  a  shame-spot  already 
>n  her  cheek,  and  met  the  angry  eyes  and  contemp 
tuous  face  of  Uncle  John,  who  had  thrown  his  voice 
into  her  ears  alone. 

"Fool!"  His  lips  shaped  the  word  for  her  eyes ; 
and  she  saw  it  as  plainly  as  if  it  had  been  written 
in  staring  capitals. 

Uncle  John  beckoned  to  her  with  his  head,  step-^ 
ping  back  as  he  did  so,  in  order  to  prevent  the 
other  inmates  of  the  room  from  seeing  him.  Mrs. 
Dainty  obeyed  the  signal,  and,  without  venturing 
another  remark,  retired  from  the  study-room,  and, 
sweeping  past  Uncle  John,  sought  refuge  in  her 
own  chamber. 

"A'n't  you  going  to  give  me  my  music-lesson, 
miss?" 

If  her  mother  had  retired  from  the  field,  there 
was  no  disposition  whatever  on  the  part  of  Agnes 
to  follow  her  example. 

"Certainly,"  was  the  mild,  evenly-spoken  an 
swer. 

"  Come  along,  then,  and  give  it  to  me  now." 

"I  will  be  ready  at  twelve  o'clock,  Agnes." 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         53 


"Mother  told  you  to  give  it  to  me  now,  and  you've 
got  to  do  so." 

"Oh,  don't  talk  so  to  Mis9  Harper,  Aggy!"  said 
Madeline,  her  voice  trembling  and  her  eyes  filling 
with  tears. 

The  words  came  just  in  season.  Miss  Harper 
felt  that  all  this  was  more  than  she  ought  to  bear ; 
and  outraged  pride  was  about  rising  above  convic 
tions  of  duty. 

"  Georgy  and  I  love  you.  We  will  say  our  les 
sons."  The  sweet  child  lifted  her  large,  beautiful 
eyes  to  the  face  of  her  governess. 

"  Tell  us  a  story,  won't  you,  Miss  Harper?" 

It  was  George  who  made  the  request. 

"  As  soon  as  you  and  Madeline  have  said  your 
lessons,  I  will  tell  you  a  nice  little  story."  And 
Florence  won  him  to  her  will  with  a  kiss. 

The  lesson-books  were  opened  instantly,  and,  the 
light  tasks  set,  the  little  ones  entered  upon  them 
with  willing  spirits. 

"Come  and  give  me  my  music-lesson!"  broke  in, 
discordantly,  the  voice  of  Agnes. 

"At  twelve  o'clock,  Agnes."  There  was  not  the 
smallest  sign  of  disturbed  feeling  in  the  manner  of 
the  governess. 

"  Mother  will  turn  you  out  of  the  house !    I  heard 

her  say  so !" 

6* 


54         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


A  red  spot  painted  itself  on  the  brow  of  Miss 
Harper.  But  it  faded  as  quickly  as  it  came. 

Seeing  that  she  was  not  to  have  her  will  with  the 
governess,  Agnes  flirted  from  the  room,  and  sought 
the  apartment  to  which  her  mother  had  retired. 

"Mother!  mother!  That  upstart  thing  says  she 
won't  give  me  my  music-lesson  for  you  nor  anybody 
else !" 

Now  Agnes  went  a  step  too  far,  and  at  the  wrong 
moment.  It  was  just  then  dawning  upon  the  mind 
of  Mrs.  Dainty  that  her  daughter  had  exaggerated 
the  conduct  of  Miss  Harper,  and  led  her  into  an 
unladylike  exhibition  of  herself.  The  sting  of  mor 
tification  excited  her  quite  enough  to  make  her  turn 
with  sharp  acrimony  upon  this  wilful  daughter. 

"  I  don't  believe  a  word  of  it !"  she  said,  angrily. 
"  All  this  trouble  has  grown  out  of  your  bad  con 
duct.  Go  off  and  say  your  lessons  at  the  right  time. 
I  won't  be  annoyed  in  this  way  any  longer." 

"But,  mother " 

Mrs.  Dainty  took  her  by  the  arm  and  thrust  her 
from  the  room,  saying,  passionately, — 

"  Don't  let  me  see  your  face  again  to-day  !" 

For  several  minutes  Agnes  sat  upon  the  stairs 
leading  up  to  the  study-room,  so  disappointed  and 
mortified  that  only  anger  kept  her  from  tears.  Down 
from  this  room  came  the  low  murmur  of  voices; 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         55 


and  her  ears  recognised  now  that  of  Madeline  or 
George,  and  now  that  of  Miss  Harper.  How  mu 
sical  was  the  latter,  compared  with  the  sound  of  her 
mother's  rebuking  tones  that  were  still  in  her  ears ! 
In  spite  of  pride  and  self-will,  her  heart  acknow 
ledged  the  contrast;  and,  with  this  acknowledg 
ment,  touches  of  shame  were  felt.  Even  with  mean 
false  accusation  on  her  side,  self-will  had  failed  to 
triumph.  Success  would  have  blinded  her  to  the 
quality  of  her  own  spirit;  but  failure  made  her  vision 
clearer. 

All  remained  still  in  the  mother's  chamber  and 
still  through  the  house,  as  the  mortified  girl  sat  al 
most  crouching  on  the  stairs,  and  quiet  was  only 
disturbed  faintly  by  the  muffled  voices  that  were 
heard  in  the  study-room. 

Agnes  could  not  help  but  think,  for  passion  was 
subsiding;  and  thought  dwelt  naturally  upon  the 
persons  and  circumstances  by  which  passion  had 
been  aroused  into  turbulence.  A  contrast  between 
the  mother's  spirit  and  the  spirit  thus  far  shown  by 
Miss  Harper  forced  itself  upon  her  mind,  and  she 
saw  the  beauty  of  the  one  and  the  deformity  of  the 
other.  In  spite  of  her  pride,  a  feeling  of  respect 
for  Miss  Harper  was  born;  and  with  this  respect 
something  of  contempt  for  her  weak,  passionate 
mother  found  an  existence. 


56         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"Now  tell  us  the  story,  won't  you,  Miss  Harper  ?" 

It  was  the  voice  of  George,  ringing  down  from 
the  study-room.  The  lessons  were  over;  and  the 
promised  story  was  to  come. 

Scarcely  conscious  of  what  she  was  doing,  Agnes 
moved  quietly  up  the  stairs,  until  she  was  near 
enough  to  the  door  of  the  study-room  to  hear  dis 
tinctly. 

"  There  was  once  a  little  flower-bud."  Miss  Har 
per  began  her  story  in  a  low  voice,  and  Agnea 
leaned  forward,  listening  earnestly.  "  It  was  very 
small,  and  two  green  leaves  gathered  their  arms 
closely  around  it,  for  there  was  a  hidden  treasure 
of  sweetness  in  the  heart  of  that  bud.  One  day 
the  cold,  angry  wind  came  along,  and  wanted  the 
bud  to  open  her  beautiful  pink  leaves  and  give  out 
from  her  heart  the  sweet  perfumes  that  were  hidden 
there.  He  blew  harshly  upon  her,  throwing  her 
little  head  first  on  one  side  and  then  upon  the  other, 
and  called  angrily  for  her  to  open,  that  her  sweet 
ness  might  breathe  in  his  ugly  face.  But  the  two 
green  leaves  only  hugged  their  arms  closer  around 
the  bud.  Then  he  dashed  her  head  upon  the 
ground,  and  tried  to  trample  the  life  out  of  her; 
for  he  did  not  love  her  at  all :  he  only  loved  himself. 
The  light  stem  that  held  the  bud  did  not  break, 
but  only  bent  down,  and,  when  the  cruel  wind  was 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         57 


gone,  raised  up  again  from  the  ground  and  lifted 
the  bud  into  the  warm  sunshine  that  was  coming 
abroad. 

"  It  was  very  different  when  the  gentle,  loving 
sunshine  came  and  asked  the  two  green  leaves  to 
unclasp  themselves  and  let  the  bud  grow  into  a 
flower,  that  the  sweetness  might  come  out  of  its 
little  heart.  Greener  and  softer  grew  these  leaves, 
and  they  seemed  almost  to  smile  with  pleasure,  as 
they  gently  fell  back  from  the  swelling  bud,  that 
opened  and  opened  in  the  face  of  the  sunshine  until 
it  became  a  beautiful  flower,  the  perfume  in  its 
heart  filling  all  the  air  around." 

Miss  Harper  paused. 

"What  a  sweet  story!"  said  Madeline,  looking 
still  into  the  face  of  her  governess,  and  with  won 
dering  eyes,  for  she  felt,  child  as  she  was,  that  the 
story  had  a  signification. 

"Love  and  kindness  are  always  better  than 
anger,"  said  Miss  Harper,  answering  the  child's 
eyes. 

"The  sunshine  was  love?"  said  Madeline. 

"Yes;  and  the  cold  wind  was  anger." 

"And  what  was  the  flower?"  asked  the 
child. 

"You  and  George  are  human  flowers,  dear;" 
and,  from  the  swelling  love  in  her  pure  spirit,  Miss 


58         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


Harper  pressed  a  kiss  on  the  lips  of  both  the 
children. 

"Am  I  a  flower?"  asked  George. 

"I  call  you  a  little  human  flower,"  answered  the 
governess, — "a  little  human  flower,  with  love  in 
your  heart,  hidden  away  there  like  sweetness  in  the 
heart  of  the  bud  I  was  telling  you  about.  Will  you 
let  me  be  your  sunshine?" 

The  wayward  boy  flung  his  arms  around  the  neck 
of  Florence  and  clasped  her  tightly,  but  without 
speaking.  He  felt  more  than  he  could  utter. 

A  tear  dropped  upon  the  hand  of  Agnes,  as  she 
sat  upon  the  stairs  near  the  door  of  the  study- 
room.  It  seemed  to  her  as  if  heaven  were  in  that 
room,  while  she  was  on  the  outside.  Never  in  her 
life  had  she  felt  so  strangely;  never  had  such  a 
sense  of  desolation  oppressed  her.  That  lesson  of 
the  bud,  the  wind,  and  the  sunshine, — how  deeply 
it  had  sunk  into  her  heart!  Acting  from  <& 
sudden  impulse,  she  started  up,  and,  going  in 
where  the  young  governess  sat  with  an  arm 
drawn  around  each  of  the  two  children,  she  said, 
with  burning  eyes,  and  a  voice  unsteady  from 
emotion, — 

"  Be  my  sunshine  also,  Miss  Harper !  Oh,  be  my 
sunshine !  I  have  long  enough  been  hurt  by  the 
angry  wind!" 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         59 


An  appeal  so  unlocked  for  surprised  Florence; 
but  she  did  not  hesitate.  Rising  instantly,  she 
took  the  extended  hands  of  Agnes  in  both  of  hers, 
and  answered, — • 

"I  have  only  sunshine  to  give,  dear  Agnes. 
Regard  me  no  longer  as  an  enemy  and  an  op 
pressor.  I  am  your  friend." 

"  I  know  it,  I  know  it,  Miss  Harper !" 

"Your  true  friend,"  added  Florence,  kissing 
her.  "And  now,"  she  added,  in  a  sweet,  per 
suasive  voice,  "let  us  make  this  room  sacred  to 
peace,  order,  and  instruction,  and  open  all  its  win 
dows  for  love's  warm  sunshine  to  stream  in  upon  us 
daily." 

"  It  shall  be  no  fault  of  mine  if  otherwise,"  was 
the  low,  earnest  reply  of  the  young  girl,  whom  love 
had  conquered. 


60         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE   GOVERNESS   DISMISSED, 

"How  do  you  like  your  governess?"  inquired  a 
fashionable  friend,  who  was  making  a  call  upon 
Mrs.  Dainty. 

Mrs.  Dainty  shook  her  head  and  pursed  up  her 
lips  in  a  vulgar  way  that  was  natural  to  her. 

"Not  perfect,  of  course,"  said  the  friend. 

"No, — not  within  a  thousand  miles  of  perfec 
tion." 

"An  American  girl,  I  presume?" 

"Yes."  The  lip  of  Mrs.  Dainty  assumed  a  curl 
of  contempt. 

"Poor  American  girls  are  an  indifferent  set,"  re 
marked  the  lady.  "A'n't  you  afraid  that  your 
children  will,  imperceptibly,  imbibe  her  low  habits 
and  vulgar  ways  of  speaking?" 

"  Yes ;  that  is  my  greatest  fear.  Already  I  think 
I  see  a  change." 

"  I  wouldn't  keep  her  an  hour,  if  that  were  the 
case,"  said  the  lady.  "  No,  not  for  the  fraction  of 
an  hour!"  she  added,  with  emphasis.  "I  had  al- 


THE  ANGJEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         61 


most  as  soon  see  my  children  vicious  as  vulgar;  for 
vice  may  be  eradicated,  but  vulgarity  is  a  stain 
nothing  can  polish  out." 

"And,  to  add  to  her  offence,"  remarked  Mrs. 
Dainty,  "  she  has  assumed  an  upstart  authority 
which  has  kept  the  house  in  hot  water  ever  since 
she  came  into  it.  The  children,  and  particularly 
Agnes,  will  not  submit  to  her  rules  and  exac 
tions." 

"Why  don't  you  pack  her  off?  I'd  do  it  in  less 
than  no  time,"  said  the  refined  acquaintance. 

"  I've  about  made  up  my  mind  to  do  it,  and  in 
spite  of  all  opposition." 

"  Opposition !     Who  has  any  right  to  oppose  ?" 

"  That  fussy  old  uncle  of  mine  is  always  meddling 
in  our  affairs, — Uncle  John." 

"Why  do  you  keep  him  about  the  house?" 

"  He's  my  mother's  brother,"  replied  Mrs.  Dainty. 
She  could  have  given  a  better  reason;  but  it  would 
have  been  at  the  expense  of  an  exposure  of  selfish 
ness  she  did  not  care  to  make. 

"  If  he  were  my  mother's  great-grandfather,  he 
couldn't  find  harbor  in  my  house  if  he  interfered  in 
what  didn't  concern  him,"  said  the  lady. 

Mrs.  Dainty  sighed.  Uncle  John  was  a  great 
trouble  to  her,  for  he  would  say  what  he  thought 
and  do  what  he  pleased.  But  then  Uncle  John 


62          THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


owned  the  house  they  lived  in,  which  they  occupied 
rent  free,  or  in  compensation  for  board.  And, 
moreover,  Uncle  John  was  worth  two  or  three  dol 
lars  where  her  not  over-thrifty  husband  was  worth 
one.  No,  no.  It  wouldn't  just  answer  to  turn 
Uncle  John  out  of  the  house ;  for  that  would  be  a 
losing  business. 

"  If  I  could  only  find  the  right  stamp  of  a  gover 
ness,"  said  Mrs.  Dainty,  sighing  again. 

"I  think  I  know  a  person  who  would  just  suit 
you." 

"  Oh,  indeed!    "Where  can  I  see  her?" 

"Have  you  any  acquaintance  with  Mrs.  Ashton?" 

"No, — though  I  have  long  desired  to  be  num 
bered  among  her  friends." 

"  Only  yesterday  she  mentioned  to  me,"  said  the 
visitor,  "  that  she  knew  a  highly-accomplished  Eng 
lish  lady,  a  widow,  whose  husband  died  in  the  East 
India  Company's  service,  and  asked  me  to  bear  her 
in  remembrance  if  I  should  hear  of  any  one  who 
wanted  a  governess." 

"How  fortunate!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Dainty.  "An 
educated  English  lady !  What  more  could  I  desire  ?" 

"  Nothing.  Shall  I  speak  to  Mrs.  Ashton  about 
you,  and  learn  the  lady's  address  ?" 

"  By  all  means.  Won't  you  see  her  this  very 
day?" 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.          63 


"  If  you  desire  it." 

"  Oh,  I  do  desire  it  above  all  things." 

"  I  will  see  the  lady  for  you." 

"  How  kind  in  you !" 

"  Shall  I  say  that  you  wish  to  engage  her?" 

"  Oh,  by  all  means !" 

"What  will  you  do  with  your  American  girl?" 
asked  the  lady. 

"  Give  her  notice  to  quit  immediately.  She  shall 
not  pass  another  night  under  this  roof:  my  mind  is 
made  up  to  that.  The  way  she  has  acted  this  day 
decides  me." 

"At  what  time  shall  I  tell  this  English  lady  to 
call?" 

"  I  will  see  her  at  four  this  afternoon." 

"Very  well." 

"  In  the  mean  time  I  will  close  up  matters  with 
Jkiss  Harper." 

"Is  that  the  name  of  your  present  governess?" 
inquired  the  lady,  evincing  some  interest. 

"Yes." 

"Florence  Harper?" 

"  Yes.    Do  you  know  any  thing  about  her?" 

"  I  knew  her  mother  when  I  was  a  girl,"  replied 
the  lady,— "  though  I  never  fancied  her  a  great 
deal.  She  had  too  much  mock  dignity  for  me. 
She  married  very  well,  and  for  some  time  moved  in 


64          THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


moderately  good  society.  But  her  husband  failed 
in  business  several  years  ago,  and  died  shortly 
afterward,  I  think.  So  it  is  her  daughter  you  have 
for  a  governess !  How  things  will  come  around ! 
There  was  a  time  when  she  seemed  to  think  I 
wasn't  good  enough  to  associate  with  her ;  and  now 
her  daughter  has  come  down  to  the  position  of  a 
hireling.  "Well,  well !  Isn't  this  a  queer  world  ? 
If  Florence  is  like  her  mother,  I  don't  think  she 
will  suit." 

"  She  puts  on  airs  above  her  station,"  said  Mrs. 
Dainty. 

"An  inherited  fault.  Her  mother  had  a  way  of 
looking  down  upon  everybody.  I  couldn't  bear  her !" 

"  Humph  !  This  spawn  of  hers  actually  assumed 
to  put  herself  on  a  level  with  me,  and  to  '  approve' 
my  opinions  in  regard  to  the  children's  education ! 
I  was  too  provoked !" 

"You'll  always  have  trouble  with  her,"  said  the 
lady.  "  The  stock  isn't  right.  Is  Agnes  taking 
lessons  in  music?"  she  inquired,  in  a  pause  that  fol 
lowed.  The  sound  of  a  piano  had  for  some  time 
been  heard. 

Mrs.  Dainty  drew  out  her  watch  as  she  answered 
in  the  affirmative.  She  saw  that  it  was  half-past 
twelve  o'clock.  A  moment  or  two  she  listened, 
while  a  serious  expression  came  into  her  face. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.          65 


"  I  don't  like  that,"  said  she. 

"What?" 

"  This  girl  is  bound  to  have  her  way,  I  see !" 

"Who?" 

"  Why,  Miss  Harper.  There's  been  a  contention 
between  her  and  Agnes  about  the  hour  at  which  the 
music-lesson  shall  be  given.  Agnes  wished  to  take 
it  at  ten  o'clock ;  but  Miss  Harper  said  twelve.  I 
told  her  two  hours  ago  to  give  Agnes  her  lesson. 
But  you  see  how  it  is !  She  means  to  be  mistress. 
I'm  too  provoked !" 

"If  she  begins  by  domineering  over  your  chil 
dren  in  this  way,  what  will  it  be  in  the  end?  I 
only  wonder  that  a  girl  like  Agnes  would  sub 
mit." 

"It  is  the  last  music-lesson  she  gives  in  this 
house,"  said  Mrs.  Dainty.  "  My  mind  is  made  up 
to  that.  Send  me  the  English  lady,  and  I  will  en 
gage  her  on  the  spot.  Tell  her  that  I  would  like 
her  to  come  this  very  day,  if  it  is  agreeable.  I  will 
end  Miss  Harper  away,  and  take  her  without  con 
sulting  anybody.  When  the  thing  is  done,  Uncle 
John  may  scold  to  his  heart's  content.  He  can't 
change  the  fact." 

And  so  the  thing  was  settled.  At  dinner-time 
Mrs.  Dainty  maintained  a  perfect  silence  in  regard 

to  the  governess.      Agnes  looked  subdued.     Her 
E  6* 


66          THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


mother  noticed  this,  and  her  blood  grew  hot  as  she 
imagined  the  cause  to  be  a  crushed  spirit  under  the 
iron  rule  of  Miss  Harper.  Uncle  John  had  made  it 
his  business  to  see  a  great  deal  more  of  what  was 
going  on  than  any  one  imagined.  He  understood 
the  state  of  Agnes's  mind  far  better  than  did  her 
mother.  All  was  coming  right,  he  saw,  and  his 
wise  heart,  so  full  of  interest  for  the  children,  felt 
a  burden  of  care  removed.  After  dinner  he  went 
out. 

"Just  what  I  wished  for,"  said  Mrs.  Dainty  to 
herself,  as  she  saw  him  take  his  hat  and  cane.  "  I 
will  make  clean  work  of  it  with  this  '  angel'  of 
yours :  see  if  I  don't !" 

"  Tell  Miss  Harper  that  I  wish  to  see  her  in  my 
room,"  Mrs.  Dainty  spoke  to  a  servant,  half  an  hour 
later.  The  servant  carried  the  message  to  the  go 
verness,  who  obeyed  the  summons  without  a  mo 
ment's  delay. 

"  I  have  sent  for  you,  Miss  Harper,  to  say  what 
you  must  have  yourself  inferred, — that  you  will  not 
suit  me  for  a  governess." 

Mrs.  Dainty  spoke  coldly, — almost  severely.  That 
Florence  was  surprised,  her  suddenly-heightened 
color  showed  plainly.  She  caught  her  breath,  and, 
for  a  few  moments,  looked  bewildered.  Mrs.  Dainty 
observed  this,  and  said, — 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.          67 


"You  have  no  reason  to  be  surprised  or  disap 
pointed,  miss.  I  told  you  in  the  beginning  that  1 
didn't  think  you  would  suit;  and  I  have  never  seen 
cause  for  a  moment  to  change  my  mind  since  you 
came  into  the  house.  Instead  of  falling  into  you 
place  and  doing  your  duty  as  became  one  in  youi 
position,  you  have  done  nothing  but  keep  me  and 
the  children  in  hot  water  from  the  day  you  entered 
the  house.  When  you  get  a  good  situation  again, 
take  my  advice,  and  be  content  with  a  hireling's 
place,  and  don't  assume  .the  airs  of  a  mistress.  No 
lady  will  have  her  children  domineered  over  as  you 
have  domineered  over  mine." 

"  Mrs.  Dainty,  I  repel " 

"  Not  a  word  to  me,  miss !  Not  a  word  to  me  !" 
replied  the  lady,  imperiously.  "  I  permit  no  one  in 
my  house  to  answer  back.  Here  are  your  wages  for 
the  time  you  have  been  instructing  the  children. 
Take  the  money,  and  go  !" 

Miss  Harper  did  not  touch  the  money,  but  turned 
away,  and  was  leaving  the  room. 

"Miss  Harper!"  The  voice  of  Mrs.  Dainty  had 
in  it  a  commanding  tone. 

Florence  paused,  and  turned  partly  around. 

"Why  don't  you  take  the  money?  say !" 

"I  cannot  receive  pay  for  services  that  are  so 
poorly  regarded,"  was  her  calmly-spoken  answer. 


68         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"Impudent!"     Miss  Harper  turned  away  again. 

"  Stop !"  The  foot  of  Mrs.  Dainty  jarred  on  the 
floor.  Miss  Harper  looked  back. 

"  Don't  see  one  of  the  children ;  but  go  off  with 
yourself  immediately!" 

The  young  governess  flitted  away  almost  as  noise 
lessly  as  a  spirit.  At  the  same  moment  Mrs.  Dainty 
rung  her  bell  violently.  To  the  servant  who  an 
swered,  she  said, — 

"Tell  all  the  children  to  come  to  my  room." 

"They  shall  see  who  is  mistress  in  this  house." 
(So  she  talked  with  herself  in  the  interval.)  "  Uncle 
John  has  had  his  way  a  little  too  long.  But  there  ia 
a  point  beyond  which  patience  ceases  to  be  a  virtue ; 
and  I  have  arrived  at  that  point." 

"What  do  you  want,  mamma?"  asked  Madeline, 
as  she  came  with  Agnes  and  her  little  brother  into 
her  mother's  apartment. 

"I  want  you  to  stay  here  with  me,"  was  the  cold 
answer. 

"Can't  I  go  back  to  Miss  Harper?  She  was 
telling  us-  such  a  sweet  story  when  you  sent  for 
her." 

"No;  you  can't  go  back.  You  must  stay 
here." 

"  I  don't  want  to  stay  here.  I'm  going  back  to 
Miss  Harper.  I  like  her  better  than  anybody  in  this 


TIIE   ANGEL   AND   THE   DEMON.  69 


house."  And  little  self-willed  George  made  for  the 
door,  in  his  determined  way. 

"You  George!  Come  back  this  instant!"  cried 
his  mother,  in  anger. 

"  A'n't  a-going  to,"  replied  the  little  rebel. 

"George!" 

"A'n't  a-going  to!"  sounded  resolutely  down 
from  the  stairs. 

"I'll  punish  you  !" 

"  Don't  care  !     Miss  Harper !  Miss  Harper !" 

Almost  like  a  fury  did  the  mother  rush  away 
after  her  child.  He  heard  her  coming,  and  ran  to 
Miss  Harper  for  protection.  She  had  gone  to  her 
own  apartment :  not  seeing  her  in  the  study-room, 
the  child  knew  where  to  find  her. 

"  Go  back  to  your  mother,  George !"  said  Florence, 
speaking  firmly,  but  kindly,  as  the  child  rushed 
toward  her. 

"A'n't  a-going  to!" 

"  Oh,  yes ;  Georgie  must." 

"No,  no!     A'n't  a-going  to  !" 

"  This  is  the  way  you  encourage  disobedience  in 
my  children!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Dainty,  as  she  swept 
into  the  room  at  the  moment  when  Miss  Harper 
was  stooping  down  to  kiss  the  little  boy  in  the  ful 
ness  of  her  swelling  love.  "  Out  of  my  house !  and 
quickly !" 


70         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


Grasping  George  by  an  arm,  she  bore  him,  scream 
ing,  from  the  room ;  and,  as  his  cries  came  back  to 
her  from  the  distance,  Miss  Harper  could  hear  ming 
ling  with  them  the  sound  of  passionate  blows. 

"Poor  children!"  she  said.  "There  is  good  in 
them,  but  how  sadly  overgrown  by  weeds !  With 
such  a  mother,  what  hope  is  there  ?  But  I  must  not 
linger  here.  For  their  sakes  I  would  have  remained, 
even  though  suffering  insult  daily.  No  choice  is 
left  me,  however,  and  I  must  go." 

As  Miss  Harper  passed  the  door  of  Mrs.  Dainty's 
room,  on  her  way  down-stairs,  dressed  to  leave  the 
house,  she  heard  the  sobbing  of  George  and  Made 
line,  mingled  with  stormy  words  that  were  passing 
between  Agnes  and  her  mother.  The  purport  of 
thes-e  she  did  not  stop  to  hear,  but  hurried  on,  and, 
without  seeing  or  speaking  to  any  one,  took  her 
silent  departure. 


THE  AN<3EL  AND   THE  DEMON.  71 


CHAPTER  VTL 

A   REVELATION. 

"FLORENCE!"  Miss  Harper  stopped  suddenly, 
and  looked  up  in  a  bewildered  manner. 

"  Florence !"  repeated  the  voice  of  Uncle  John. 

"  Mr.  Fleetwood !"  She  could  only  utter  the  kind 
old  man's  name  in  a  low,  choking  voice. 

""Where  are  you  going,  Florence?"  he  asked. 

"  Home,"  was  the  answer. 

"  Has  any  thing  happened  at  home  ?  Is  your 
aunt  sick  ?" 

"  No,  sir." 

"Are  you  sick,  Florence?" 

"Yes,  sir.  Sick  at  heart!"  was  the  reply  of 
Florence,  made  with  quivering  lips. 

Uncle  John  turned,  and  walked  beside  Miss  Har 
per,  in  the  direction  he  had  found  her  going. 

"  There  is  something  wrong,  Florence,"  said  he. 
"  Why  have  you  left  the  house  of  my  niece  so  sud 
denly?" 

"  Mrs.  Dainty  has  dispensed  with  my  services." 

"What?" 


72         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"  Mrs.  Dainty  does  not  wish  me  any  longer  to 
hold  the  place  of  governess  to  her  children,"  said 
Florence. 

Uncle  John  was  silent  for  some  moments.  He 
then  said, — 

"How  did  this  happen?  Tell  me  everything 
freely." 

Florence  related  what  had  passed  between  her 
and  Mrs.  Dainty  at  the  hurried  interview  preceding 
her  departure  from  the  house. 

"You  must  go  back  again,"  said  Uncle  John, 
after  Florence  had  finished  her  brief  narrative. 

"  Impossible  !"  was  her  firm  answer. 

"  Say  not  so,  Florence." 

"  Impossible,  Mr.  Fleetwood  !  Impossible  !  I  am 
not  strong  enough  to  bear  all  this  insult  and  indig 
nity.  I  can  suffer  pain,  or  even  death;  but  my 
spirit  will  not  brook  humiliation  like  this !  Only 
for  the  children's  sake  have  I  remained  up  to  this 
day." 

"  And  only  for  their  sakes  would  I  still  have  you 
remain,"  said  Uncle  John. 

"But  the  door  is  shut  against  me;  and  I  will 
never  knock  to  have  it  opened,"  said  the  young  girl, 
with  an  indignant  spirit;  "never!  never!"  She 
repeated  the  words  very  firmly. 

"  The  door  must  be  opened  for  you,  and  without 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.          73 


the  preliminary  of  a  knock.  Leave  all  that  to  me," 
said  Uncle  John. 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  a  small  house  in 
a  part  of  the  city  where  persons  in  moderate 
circumstances  reside,  and  both  paused  at  the 
door. 

"Will  you  come  in,  Mr.  Fleetwood?"  said  Miss 
Harper,  speaking  in  a  tone  of  unusual  familiarity. 
"Aunt  Mary  will,  I  know,  be  glad  to  see  you." 

"  Yes,  I  must  go  in,  and  have  a  little  more  talk 
with  you,  and  a  little  conference  with  good  Aunt 
Mary." 

In  the  next  moment  they  passed  together  into 
the  house, — the  manner  of  Uncle  John  being  that 
of  a  man  who  was  entering  a  familiar  place.  la 
the  small,  neatly-furnished  sitting-room  to  which 
both  proceeded  they  found  a  plainly-dressed  lady, 
somewhat  advanced  in  years.  She  was  reading  in  a 
volume  that  seemed  to  have  been  taken  up  casually, 
as  her  knitting-work  was  in  her  lap. 

"  How  are  you,  Mrs.  Elder?"  said  Uncle  John,  in 
the  familiar  voice  of  a  friend ;  and  he  took  the  old 
lady's  hand  and  shook  it  cordially. 

"  Eight  well,  and  right  glad  to  see  you,  Mr. 
Fleetwood,"  was  the  frank,  cheerful  response,  as 
she  returned  the  hearty  pressure  of  Uncle  John's 

hand.      "But  to  what   cause   am  I  indebted  for 

7 


74          THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


this  visit?"  she  added,  a  slight  shadow  coming 
into  he?  face  as  she  looked  more  narrowly  at  Flo 
rence. 

"A  providential  one,  doubtless,"  said  Mr.  Fleet- 
wood,  smiling.  "I  met  your  niece,  just  now,  flee 
ing  from  the  post  of  duty,  and  have  accompanied 
her  hither,  that  I  might  hear  the  report  she  has  to 
make  of  herself." 

"A  good  report,  I  doubt  not,"  replied  the  old 
lady,  throwing  a  kind  but  serious  glance  upon  the 
countenance  of  her  niece. 

"When  the  door  is  shut  in  your  face,  you  can 
hardly  be  blamed  for  leaving  the  threshold,"  said 
Florence,  with  some  bitterness  in  her  tones. 

"Is  it  so  bad  as  that,  my  child?"  Mrs.  Elder 
spoke  with  much  tenderness,  which  did  not  wholly 
conceal  a  flush  of  indignation. 

"  Just  so  bad."  Florence  said  this  slowly,  and 
with  an  emphasis  on  every  word.  "Just  so  bad," 
she  repeated.  "  And  yet  Mr.  Fleetwood  wishes  me 
to  return  for  the  children's  sake." 

"And  is  not  that  a  powerful  motive?"  said  the 
old  gentleman,  speaking  before  Mrs.  Elder  had  time 
to  reply.  "  For  the  children's  sake !  For  the  sake 
of  those  little  ones  whom  the  Lord,  when  upon  the 
earth,  took  up  in  his  arms  and  blessed  with  a  divine 
blessing, — who  are  so  precious  in  the  eyes  of  Ilea- 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.          75 


ven  that  their  angels  do  always  behold  the  face  of 
Our  Father.  I  urged,  you  see,  Mrs.  Elder,  no  light 
motive." 

The  eyes  and  countenance  of  Florence  both 
drooped  to  the  floor,  and  she  remained  sitting  al 
most  motionless. 

"  I  must  know  all  the  facts  in  the  case,  Mr.  Fleet- 
wood,  before  I  can  say  a  word  touching  the  duty  of 
my  niece.  "What  she  sees  to  be  right  she  has  the 
courage  to  do.  and,  if  my  eyes  can  aid  her  in  seeing 
right,  I  will  gladly  lend  her  their  more  experienced 
vision.  Let  me  have  the  whole  story  of  this  new 
trouble  with  Mrs.  Dainty." 

In  as  few  words  as  possible,  Florence  rehearsed 
what  had  passed  between  her  and  Mrs.  Dainty, 
giving  to  her  auditors  that  lady's  emphatic  and  in 
sulting  terms  of  dismissal. 

Mrs.  Elder  remained  gravely  silent  for  some 
minutes  after  Florence  had  ceased  speaking ;  while 
Mr.  Fleetwood  waited  patiently  to  get  the  conclu 
sion  of  her  thoughts. 

"  I  don't  see  that  it  is  possible  for  Florence  to 
go  back  again,"  said  the  old  lady,  speaking  as  if 
that  view  of  the  case  were  clearly  settled  in  her 
mind. 

"  Extreme  cases  require  extreme  measures,"  said 
Mr.  Fleetwood.  "  I  treat  my  niece,  for  most  of  the 


76          THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


time,  as  if  she  were  partially  demented.  And  so 
she  is;  for  vanity  and  love  of  the  world  have  in 
a  measure  dethroned  her  reason.  She  was  my 
favorite  when  a  little  girl;  and  I  remained  strongly 
attached  to  her  as  she  grew  up  toward  womanhood, 
— though  I  could  not  be  over-patient  with  the 
fashionable  follies  to  which  she  showed  far  too  early 
an  inclination.  For  some  years  I  have  been  alto 
gether  out  of  heart  with  her,  and  see  no  hope  of 
her  reformation,  except  through  virtue  of  some 
great  calamity.  But  she  has  children,  to  whom  all 
my  love  is  transferred, —  children  who  may  be 
trained  to  good  or  warped  to  evil.  I  had  almost 
come  to  despair  of  them,  when  a  bright  day  re 
newed  old  acquaintanceship,  and  I  discovered  in 
your  excellent  niece  all  the  qualities  needed  to  save 
these  children.  How  wisely,  lovingly,  and  un 
selfishly  she  has  performed  her  task  so  far  I  need 
not  repeat  to  you,  Mrs.  Elder,  for  I  have  told  you 
every  word  before.  And  now,  do  you  think  I 
can  give  her  up?  JSTo,  no.  She  must  return. 
But  I  will  make  the  way  as  easy  for  her  as  pos 
sible.  All  the  rough  places  I  cannot  hope  to  make 
even ;  but  she  has  courage  to  walk,  if  she  knows 
the  voice  of  duty,  even  where  sharp  stones  are 
certain  to  cut  her  tender  feet.  Already  she  has 
won  her  way  into  the  hearts  of  the  children,  and 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         77 


has  at  this  moment  more  power  over  them  for 
good  than  any  living  soul.  This  power  must  not 
be  lost." 

"  Every  child  that  is  born,"  said  Aunt  Mary,  in  a 
thoughtful  tone,  "is  precious  in  the  eyes  of  God, 
and  his  love  toward  that  child  is  manifested  in  the 
best  possible  arrangement  of  things  external  to  its 
life,  in  order  that  these  may  awaken  in  its  heart 
emotions  of  kindness,  mercy,  and  pity  toward 
others.  Such  emotions,  whenever  excited,  fix 
themselves  as  permanent  things  in  the  young  im 
mortal,  and  remain  there  like  good  seed  that  may 
be  warmed  into  life  and  produce  good  fruit  when 
time  has  brought  the  age  of  rational  freedom.  It 
is  by  such  remains  of  good  and  true  things  in  all 
their  varieties,  which  are  stored  up  in  the  minds  of 
children  from  the  earliest  days  of  infancy,  up  to 
manhood,  that  our  Divine  Father  is  able  to  save  us 
from  the  evil  inclinations  we  inherit,  when  we  step 
forth,  as  men  and  women,  self-reliant  and  ration 
ally  responsible.  To  help  in  the  work  of  storing 
up  in  the  minds  of  young  children  such  '  remains,' 
as  I  have  called  them,  is  indeed  a  heavenly 
work ;  and  all  who  engage  in  it  are  co-workers 
with  angels." 

"And  to  neglect  such  work,"  said  Mr.  Fleet- 
wood,  "when  it  lies  in  our  way,  and  will  be  per- 

7* 


78         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


formed  by  no  other  hands  if  we  refuse  to  do  it, 
involves  no  light  responsibility.  The  perversion, 
corruption,  and  final  ruin  of  an  immortal  soul  is  a 
fearful  thought" 

A  deep  sigh  fluttered  the  bosom  of  Florence  Har 
per;  but  she  made  no  remark. 

"  If  a  mother  neglect  her  high  duties  in  this  re 
gard,"  said  Mrs.  Elder,  "  can  we  say  that  another 
becomes  responsible  in  her  stead  ?" 

Florence  raised  her  head  and  listened  with 
marked  interest  for  Mr.  Fleetwood's  answer  to  this 
question.  He  reflected  a  moment,  and  then  made 
reply:— 

"  For  the  work  God  sets  before  us  are  we  alone 
responsible.  His  love  for  his  children  is  so  great 
that  he  is  ever  providing  the  means  to  help  them 
to  a  knowledge  of  the  good  that  is  needful  to  secure 
their  happiness.  If  those  appointed  by  nature  to 
do  good  to  his  little  ones  neglect  their  high  trust, 
he  leads  others  to  a  knowledge  of  their  wants ;  and, 
if  these  pass  by  unmoved  to  kindness,  he  still  offers 
the  heavenly  work  to  other  hands." 

The  head  of  Florence  again  drooped,  and  again 
her  bosom  trembled  with  a  sigh. 

"  I  do  not  ask  Florence  to  return  to  our  house 
to-day,"  said  Mr.  Flcetwood.  "  She  must  have  a 
little  time  for  rest  and  reflection,  and  I  must  have 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         79 


a  little  time  for  observation  and  management  at 
home.  The  meaning  of  this  hasty  step  on  the  part 
of  my  niece  I  do  not  comprehend.  Something  lies 
behind  it  that  I  must  make  out  clearly  before 
acting." 

"  I  will  see  you  in  the  morning,  Florence,"  added 
the  old  gentleman,  on  rising  to  go.  Then,  taking 
her  hand,  he  said,  very  earnestly,  and  with  slight 
emotion, — 

"  Ever  regard  me  as  your  friend, — nay,  more 
than  a  friend, — as  a  father.  Do  not  fear  that  I 
will  advise  you  to  any  course  of  action  in  this 
matter  that  I  would  not  advise  you  to  take  were 
you  indeed  my  own  child — as — as  you  might  have 
been !" 

The  voice  of  the  old  man  grew  strangely  veiled 
with  feeling  as  he  uttered,  in  something  of  an 
absent  way,  the  closing  words  of  the  last  sentence. 

"  Yes !  yes !  as  you  might  have  been,  Florence !" 
repeated  Mr.  Fleetwood,  with  sudden  energy,  catch 
ing  at  the  hand  of  the  young  girl  and  pressing  it  to 
his  lips. 

"Tell  her  all!  yes,  tell  her  all!"  he  added, 
turning  to  Mrs.  Elder  in  a  hurried,  excited  man 
ner.  "  Her  presence  moves  me  strangely,  and 
memories  of  the  past  are ,  too  strong  for  an  old 
man's  feelings." 


SO          THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


Mr.  Fleetwood  left,  abruptly,  the  apartment,  pass 
ing  into  the  street,  and  so  leaving  the  aunt  and 
niece  alone. 

"Tell  me  all  of  what,  Aunt  Mary?"  said  Florence, 
coming  to  the  side  of  Mrs.  Elder.  Her  face  had 
become  very  pale. 

"A  simple  story  of  thwarted  love  and  undying 
affection,"  replied  Aunt  Mary,  calmly.  "Mr.  Fleet- 
wood  loved  your  mother,  and  that  love  was  only  in 
a  measure  returned.  Your  father  won  her  heart 
more  truly,  and  she  decided  in  his  favor.  They 
were  married,  and  you  are  their  only  child.  If  your 
mother  had  married  Mr.  Fleetwood,  the  current  of 
her  life  might  have  run  smoother ;  but  whether  she 
would  have  been  happier  is  not  for  me  to  say.  Mr. 
Fleetwood  never  would  marry  again ;  and  it  seems 
that  his  love  for  your  mother  has  been  an  undying 
passion.  I  will  say  no  more  than  this.  But  he  is  a 
man  of  great  moral  worth,  noble  sentiments,  and 
a  true  heart.  His  interest  in  you  is  not  a  passing 
whim  or  preference,  but  has  in  it  such  deep  regard 
as  a  wise  and  good  father  knows  only  for  his  child. 
And  so  you  may  be  very  sure  that  he  will  advise 
you  to  no  course  of  action  in  regard  to  his  niece 
and  her  children  that  he  would  not  advise  for  his 
own  daughter.  It  was  his  love  for  these  children 
that  led  him  to  desire  you  for  their  governess, — 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         81 


you,  whom  lie  rightly  knew  only  through  my  re 
presentation  of  your  character.  I  think  you  will 
see  it  best  to  return  to  your  post." 

"  I  can  only  go  back  through  Mrs.  Dainty's  invita 
tion,  and,  I  was  going  to  say,  after  her  apology." 

"Withhold  for  the  present  that  last  condition," 
said  Aunt  Mary.  "I  doubt  not,  when  the  time 
comes,  the  way  in  which  your  feet  should  walk  will 
be  made  very  plain." 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


CHAPTER  Yin. 

THE  NEW   GOVERNESS. 

MRS.  DAINTY  was  asleep  in  her  easy-chair,  and  the 
children,  with  no  governess  to  interest  or  instruct 
them,  were  ranging  through  the  house  at  will,  and 
finding  their  own  amusements,  when  the  educated 
English  lady  arrived,  and  sent  up  her  card. 

"Mrs.  Jeckyl — Jeckyl:  who  is  she?  I  have  no 
acquaintance  by  that  name,"  said  Mrs.  Dainty,  as 
she  looked  at  the  card  through  her  half-awake  eyes. 
"  "What  kind  of  a  person  is  she  ?" 

"She's  dressed  in  black,"  replied  the  waiter. 

"Have  you  ever  seen  her  before?"  inquired  Mrs. 
Dainty. 

"No,  ma'am." 

"  Is  she  genteel-looking  ?  Has  she  the  appearance 
of  a  lady?" 

"She  walks  like  a  lady,"  replied  the  discrimi 
nating  waiter ;  "  but  her  black  is  a  little  rusty." 

"Somebody  that  wants  charity,  I  suppose,"  said 
Mrs.  Dainty,  with  a  look  of  disgust  and  an  impatient 
toss  of  the  head.  "Go  down  and  say  that  I  am 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         83 


engaged,  but  that  she  can  send  me  word  as  to  her 
business." 

The  waiter  retired.     On  coming  back  he  said, — 

"The  woman  wouldn't  tell  me  her  business.  She 
says  she  was  desired  to  call  by  Mrs.  Ashton,  but 
that,  if  you  are  not  prepared  to  see  her,  it  is  of  no 
consequence." 

"  Mrs.  Ashton !  Oh,  yes ;  now  I  understand !  Has 
she  gone  ?" 

The  manner  of  Mrs.  Dainty  changed  suddenly; 
and  she  made  the  inquiry  with  manifest  eagerness. 

"She  acted  as  if  she  were  going,"  replied  the 
waiter. 

"  Go  back  quickly,  and  say  that  I  will  be  down 
in  a  moment." 

A  gleam  of  satisfaction  shot  across  the  face  of 
Mrs.  Dainty. 

"My  new  English  governess!"  she  ejaculated,  in 
a  low  tone,  as  the  waiter  left  the  room.  "I'll  soon 
have  a  new  order  of  things  with  the  children!" 

After  slightly  adjusting  her  dress,  which  had  be 
come  disarranged  during  her  sleep  in  the  easy-chair, 
Mrs.  Dainty  put  on  as  grave  an  air  of  dignity  as  she 
could  assume,  and  went  down  to  the  parlor.  As 
she  entered,  a  tall  woman  dressed  in  black  arose, 
and  stood,  awaiting  her  approach,  with  a  half  proud, 
half  deferential  air,  fixing  upon  her  at  the  same  time 


84         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


two  small,  gray,  piercing  eyes,  that  seemed  to  go 
right  through  Mrs.  Dainty.  Her  widow's  weeds,  as 
the  waiter  had  informed  his  mistress,  were  a  little 
rusty;  and  the  same  might  be  said  of  her  com 
plexion.  Her  nose  was  rather  a  marked  feature  for 
prominence  and  size ;  her  lips  were  delicate  in  com 
parison  with  the  rest  of  her  face,  and  had  a  certain 
flexibility  which  showed  them  to  be  quick  indicators 
of  feeling.  The  whole  aspect  of  the  face  made  upon 
Mrs.  Dainty,  at  the  first  glance,  rather  an  unfavor 
able  impression ;  and  she  seemed  to  be  pushed  from 
rather  than  drawn  toward  the  woman. 

"Mrs.  Jeckyl?"  she  said,  assuming  a  frank,  smiling 
courtesy,  as  she  came  forward  and  offered  her  hand. 

"  My  name."  And  the  visitor  bowed  with  a  re 
served  dignity,  giving  only  the  tips  of  her  fingers  to 
Mrs.  Dainty. 

"  Mrs.  Ashton  desired  you  to  call  ?" 

"  Yes,  ma'am.  She  said  you  were  about  changing 
your  governess,  and  would  like  to  see  me  on  the 
subject." 

The  woman's  manner  a  little  embarrassed  Mrs. 
Dainty :  there  was  in  it  an  air  of  conscious  supe 
riority  that  rather  overawed  her.  • 

"  I  have  dismissed  an  upstart  American  girl,  who 
took  on  airs  with  both  me  and  my  children,"  replied 
Mrs.  Dainty,  with  considerable  warmth. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         85 


"American  girls,  I  have  observed,"  said  the  visitor, 
"are  apt  to  forget  themselves  in  the  respect  you 
mention.  It  grows  naturally  out  of  your  system 
of  government,  I  presume.  This  equality  of  the 
people  must  often  show  itself  as  an  offensive  element 
in  society.  I  have  been  many  times  annoyed  by  it 
since  I  came  to  America." 

" Oh,  it's  dreadful !"  replied  Mrs.  Dainty.  "Dread 
ful!" 

"Like  other  evils,"  was  replied,  "it  will,  I  sup 
pose,  cure  itself  in  time.  People  who  can  afford  to 
be  independent  will  throw  off  the  rude  familiars 
who  thrust  themselves  too  far  in  advance  of  their 
right  positions." 

"Exactly  so,  as  I  have  done  in  the  case  of  Miss 
Harper,  whom  I  sent  off  without  a  moment's 
warning,  for  the  offence  of  presumption.  She  very 
foolishly  imagined  that  her  judgment  and  her  will 
touching  the  children  were  superior  to  mine,  and 
ventured  to  set  me  at  naught  in  their  eyes.  It  was 
a  bold  experiment  on  her  part,  and  proved,  of  course, 
a  failure." 

"If  all  American  ladies  would  act  with  a  like 
decision  of  character,"  said  Mrs.  Jeckyl,  "a  needed 
reform  would  take  place  much  sooner  than  it  is 
likely  to  occur  while  things  go  on  as  at  present. 
But  to  the  purpose  of  my  visit.  You  desire,  as  I 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


understand,  to  secure  the  services  of  a  competent 
governess  for  your  children." 

"  I  do,"  replied  Mrs.  Dainty. 

"  So  I  have  been  informed ;  and  I  have  called  to 
see  you  at  the  particular  request  of  Mrs.  Ashton.  I 
do  not  know  that  I  am  prepared  to  make  a  positive 
engagement  at  present,  however.  The  position  will 
be  new  to  me ;  and  I  feel  averse  to  assuming  it. 
Having  moved  all  my  life  in  the  best  English  society, 
I  find  it  hard  to  repress  a  natural  repugnance  to  be 
coming  a  mere  employee — a  kind  of  half  servant — • 
in  an  American  family." 

"I  am  not  surprised  at  the  feeling,"  said  Mrs. 
Dainty,  whose  respect  for  the  lady  had  mounted  at 
least  thirty  degrees  on  the  scale  of  estimation.  "  It 
would  be  strange  if  you  felt  differently.  But  I 
think  we  can  make  your  position  in  our  family 
wholly  agreeable.  At  least,  it  shall  not  be  my  fault 
if  there  is  any  failure." 

"  If  the  lady  herself  is  on  my  side "   Mrs 

Jeckyl  paused. 

"You  need  not  be  troubled  for  the  rest,"  said 
Mrs.  Dainty,  finishing  the  sentence. 

"Very  truly  said,"  was  remarked,. in  a  compliant, 
insinuating  manner. 

The  two  ladies  then  came  down  to  a  regular 
business  interview,  in  which  the  questions  of  service 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


and  compensation  were  fully  discussed.  The  terms 
of  the  applicant  were  high,  and  her  stipulations 
varied.  She  was  to  have  no  care  of  the  children 
beyond  their  education.  Mrs.  Dainty  must  have  a 
nurse  to  give  all  attention  to  their  bodily  wants, 
while  she  administered  solely  to  their  mental  needs. 
The  hours  of  study  must  be  fixed,  and  the  nurse 
produce  the  children  at  the  study-room  doors  pre 
cisely  at  the  time  specified.  With  the  termination 
of  the  study-hours,  all  demands  upon  the  governess 
for  service  in  the  family  must  end.  After  that  her 
time  must  be  her  own.  As  to  her  meals,  they  must 
be  sent  to  her  room,  and  she  must  have  the  privilege 
of  ordering  as  she  desired  from  the  day's  bill  of  fare. 
All  this  was  imperative,  and  all  this  Mrs.  Dainty 
yielded,  so  earnest  was  she  in  her  desire  to  secure 
the  services  of  this  accomplished  English  lady. 

"  There  is  one  thing  of  which  I  must  advise  you," 
said  Mrs.  Dainty,  during  the  interview.  "  We  have 
residing  with  us  a  bachelor  uncle  of  mine,  who, 
being  in  no  business,  amuses  himself  by  petty  inter 
ferences  in  our  family  concerns.  He  is  a  terrible 
annoyance  sometimes.  I  mention  this  in  the  be 
ginning,  that  you  may  be  prepared  for  him.  One 
of  the  reasons  why  I  sent  off  that  American  girl 
was,  because  he  took  her  side  in  every  thing,  and 
encouraged  her  in  all  her  airs  and  assumptions." 


88         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"He  must  keep  out  of  my  way."  There  was  a 
peculiar  lifting  of  Mrs.  Jeekyl's  upper  lip  as  she  said 
this, — as  we  sometimes  see  it  in  an  angry  beast, — 
just  showing  her  teeth  enough  to  make  it  evident 
that  she  had  the  power  to  bite,  and  the  will,  too 
under  sufficient  provocation.  The  effect  on  Mrs. 
Dainty  was  not  pleasant ;  but  she  waved  aside  the 
warning  impression  as  something  in  which  there  was 
no  meaning. 

"Hold  him  entirely  aloof,"  she  said.  "Do  not 
permit  his  interference  in  the  smallest  matter." 

"What  right  has  he  to  interfere?"  Mrs.  Jeckyl 
showed  a  measure  of  womanly  indignation. 

"None!"  was  answered,  with  warmth.  "None! 
I  consider  myself  competent  to  decide  in  all  ques 
tions  touching  the  management  of  my  own  children, 
and  his  meddlesome  interference  puts  me  out  of  all 
patience.  "We  must  lay  our  heads  together  to  cir 
cumvent  him  entirely." 

"Why  circumvent?"  said  Mrs.  Jeckyl.     "Why 
take  all  that  trouble?    Isn't  there  an  easier  an 
plainer  way?" 

"I  do  not  wish  seriously  to  offend  my  uncle," 
replied  Mrs.  Dainty,  slightly  depressing  her  tone. 
"He  is  an  excellent,  well-meaning,  kind-hearted 
man.  I  would  therefore  circumvent  rather  than 
harshly  oppose  him.  He  is  rather  quick-tempered, 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


and  an  open  rupture  might  ensue.  The  best  way 
for  you  will  be  to  keep  him  entirely  at  a  distance. 
Stand  wholly  on  your  dignity.  Do  not  respond  to 
any  suggestion  or  advice  that  he  may  offer  in  regard 
to  the  children,  but  keep  your  own  counsel  and 
carry  out  your  own  views." 

"  Trust  me  for  that,"  said  Mrs.  Jeckyl.  "  He  will 
always  find  me  rock  or  India-rubber." 

""When  will  you  come?"  asked  Mrs.  Dainty,  as 
this  preliminary  interview  was  about  closing. 

"As  early  as  you  desire,"  replied  the  educated 
English  lady.  "  To-morrow,  if  it  is  agreeable." 

"I  wish  you  would  say  this  afternoon." 

"  This  afternoon  !"  Mrs.  Jeckyl  opened  her  small 
gray  eyes  wider  than  usual. 

"I  have  a  particular  reason,"  said  Mrs.  Dainty. 

"If  it  is  very  particular."  There  was  a  yielding 
air  about  Mrs.  Jeckyl. 

"It  is, — very  particular.  I  will  explain.  Uncle 
John  knows  nothing  at  all  yet  about  my  break  with 
Miss  Harper,  and  still  thinks  her  in  the  house.  Her 
services  were  obtained  through  him,  and  he  seems 
to  regard  her  as  a  kind  of  protegL  Now,  in  order 
to  let  him  understand  that  I  am  entirely  in  earnest, 
and  that  her  return  is  impossible,  I  wish  him  to 
learn  two  facts  in  the  case  at  the  same  time, — that 
the  aid  governess  has  left  the  house,  and  that  a  new 

8* 


THE  ANUBL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


one  has  entered.  This  will  prevent  a  brief  but  un 
pleasant  struggle  for  the  mastery.  You  understand 
me?" 

"  Certainly." 

"And  will  remain ?" 

Mrs.  Jeckyl  reflected  for  some  time. 

"I  see  exactly  what  you  wish  to  accomplish,"  she 
said,  "  and  sympathize  with  you  entirely.  To-mor 
row  would  suit  me  better;  yet  troublesome  diffi 
culties  may  pile  themselves  up  between  this  and 
to-morrow." 

"An  ounce  of  prevention  is  worth  a  pound  of 
cure,"  remarked  Mrs.  Dainty. 

"It  is,  as  every  one  has  proved  a  hundred  times 
in  life,"  said  the  new  governess. 

"  It  will  be  wise  for  us,  then,  to  use  the  ounce  of 
prevention." 

"  It  will,"  replied  Mrs.  Jeckyl. 

"  Then  you  will  at  once  assume  your  new  duties 
in  my  family  ?" 

"Yes." 

"I  am  delighted  at  your  compliance  !"  said  Mrs. 
Dainty,  pleased  as  an  impulsive  child  in  gaining 
some  desired  object.  ""We  shall  soon  have  a  new 
order  of  things  that  will  defy  Uncle  John's  petty 
interference.  Come  with  me,  and  I  will  take  you  to 
your  room  and  then  introduce  you  to  my  children." 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.          91 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE   SHADOW   OF  EVIL. 

SHOWING  the  room  was  a  simple  afi'air,  but  when 
it  came  to  showing  up  the  children  the  matter  as 
sumed  rather  a  complicated  aspect.  Agnes  was  the 
first  whom  Mrs.  Dainty  ventured  to  introduce  to  the 
new  governess. 

"My  oldest  daughter,  Mrs.  Jeckyl,"  she  said,  as 
Agnes,  who  had  been  summoned  to  the  study-room, 
entered  with  a  grave,  half-wondering,  perceptibly- 
clouded  face.  "Agnes,  Mrs.  Jeckyl,  our  new  go 
verness,  who  takes  the  place  of  Miss  Harper." 

Agnes,  who  had  advanced  to  within  a  few  steps 
of  her  mother  and  Mrs.  Jeckyl,  stopped  suddenly. 
The  quicker-flowing  blood  dyed  her  face  to  a  deep 
crimson.  The  tall,  repulsive-looking  Englishwoman 
— repulsive  to  the  sight  of  Agnes — advanced  ? 
step  and  offered  her  hand ;  but,  instead  of  taking 
the  extended  hand,  Agnes  merely  returned  her 
sharp  penetrating  look,  with  one  half  fearful  and 
half  repugnant. 


92         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"Why  don't  you  speak  to  the  lady?"  said  Mrs. 
Dainty,  with  some  sharpness  of  tone. 

Agnes  partially  extended  her  hand,  and  Mrs. 
Jeckyl,  changing  her  dignified  look  to  one  of  smiling 
insinuation,  accepted  the  reluctant  courtesy. 

"Sit  down,  my  dear."  Mrs.  Dainty's  manner 
changed,  and  her  voice  assumed  its  pleasantest 
tones. 

The  three  then  sat  down,  facing  each  other,  but 
neither  of  them  at  ease. 

"Mrs.  Jeckyl,"  said  the  mother,  "has  come  to 
take  the  place  of  Miss  Harper  as  your  governess. 
She  is  an  accomplished  English  lady,  and  will  be 
very  kind  to  you.  I  shall  expect  you  to  submit 
yourselves  to  her  dutifully,  and  to  be  guided  by  her 
instructions.  You  are  the  oldest,  my  daughter,  and 
your  example  to  Madeline  and  George  will  be  all- 
potent.  As  you  lead,  they  will  follow.  Lead  them 
kindly,  then,  into  obedience  and  acquiescence.  It 
is  in  your  power  to  make  this  change  an  easy  one 
for  all  parties.  Confide  in  Mrs.  Jeckyl.  You  will 
find  her  worthy  of  all  confidence." 

"Believe  me,  my  dear  child,"  (Mrs.  Jeckyl  took 
up  the  theme  in  a  peculiarly  insinuating  voice,  and 
with  a  smile  that  obliterated  nearly  every  disagree 
able  feature  in  her  countenance,)  "  that  I  am  indeed 
your  friend.  I  do  not  come  here  as  a  harsh,  exact- 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         93 


ing  tyrant,  but  as  a  sympathizing  instructor.  I  shall 
not  be  over-exacting,  though  earnest  in  seeking 
your  improvement.  Do  not  fear  that  I  will  require 
you  to  run  where  only  the  skill  to  walk  is  possessed. 
Let  us  be  friends  in  the  beginning." 

And  she  seized  the  hand  of  Agnes  and  gave  it  a 
warm  pressure. 

Mrs.  Dainty  was  delighted  at  this ;  it  was  so  dif 
ferent  from  the  cold,  unbending  manner  of  Florence 
Harper.  She  saw  in  it  the  polished  complaisance 
of  a  superior,  educated  woman,  in  contrast  with  the 
weak,  upstart  pretensions  of  a  presuming  American 
girl  elevated  by  circumstances  into  a  position  of 
authority. 

But  Agnes  was  not  to  be  won  over  so  easily. 
Young  eyes  often  see  deeper  at  the  first  glance  than 
old  ones.  The  hand  taken  by  Mrs.  Jeckyl  gave 
no  returning  pressure.  Mrs.  Dainty  was  chafed  at 
this,  and  said,  with  some  impatience  of  manner, 
yet  in  a  low  tone,  meant  only  for  the  ears  of  her 
daughter, — 

"  This  is  unladylike  !  Try  and  show  a  little  breed 
ing." 

"  Oh,  never  fear,  madam,"  spoke  out,  in  a  free 
way,  the  new  governess,  who  had  heard  the  admoni 
tion:  "we  will  be  good  friends  enough.  Your 
daughter  must  have  time  to  make  my  acquaintance. 


94         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


First  impressions  are  rarely  continued.  She  will 
find  me  considerate,  just,  and  sympathizing.  I  have 
been  young,  and  can  well  remember  the  days  of 
girlhood.  Indeed,  the  child  in  me  is  not  all  extin 
guished  yet.  I  like  your  daughter's  face,  and  see  in 
it  the  index  of  a  mind  to  which  judicious  culture 
will  give  strength  and  beauty." 

"  Thank  you  for  the  prophecy,"  said  Mrs.  Dainty, 
highly  pleased  with  this  well-timed  remark.  "I 
have  seen  that  Agnes  possessed  more  than  ordinary 
endowments,  and  that  all  she  wanted  was  a  judicious 
instructor,  who  could  be  at  the  same  time  a  wise  and 
loving  friend.  Be  that  to  her,  Mrs.  Jeckyl,  and  you 
will  have  our  everlasting  gratitude." 

"  Trust  me,  madam,  that  I  will  seek  the  highest 
good  of  your  children  in  all  things,"  was  replied  in 
a  manner  that  was  meant  to  be  impressive,  but 
which  so  thinly  veiled  the  hypocrite  that  Agnes, 
whose  eyes  were  upon  the  woman's  face,  curled  her 
lip  in  almost  involuntary  contempt. 

"  Call  George  and  Madeline,"  said  Mrs.  Dainty, 
but  little  encouraged  by  Agnes's  reception  of  the 
governess,  and  anxious  to  get  matters  settled  be 
tween  this  latter  personage  and  the  children  as 
quickly  as  possible. 

Agnes  left  the  room,  and  soon  returned  with  her 
brother  and  sister.  Madeline  entered  with  a  de- 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.          95 


mure  face,  and  shy,  timid  air;  while  George  bounded 
in,  boy-like,  shouting  at  the  top  of  his  voice. 

"  George !"  Mrs.  Dainty  held  up  her  finger  in  a 
warning  way. 

George  checked  his  rude  manner,  and  stood  with 
his  large  eyes  fixed  curiously  upon  the  face  of  Mrs. 
Jeckyl,  who  tried  to  put  on  a  most  winning  counte 
nance.  But,  so  far  as  the  boy  was  concerned,  her 
effort  was  entirely  fruitless.  To  him  her  aspect  was 
wholly  repulsive. 

"What  old  woman  is  this,  mamma?"  he  asked, 
looking  from  Mrs.  Jeckyl  to  his  mother. 

"  Why,  George  !  George  !  Hush !  "What  do  you 
mean  ?  Where  are  your  manners  ?"  And  the  face 
of  Mrs.  Dainty  crimsoned. 

"  You  see,  Mrs.  Jeckyl,"  she  said,  trying  to  apolo 
gize  for  the  child's  rudeness,  "  how  our  children  ape 
the  coarse  manners  of  these  vulgar  American  do 
mestics.  Miss  Harper,  the  governess  whom  I  have 
just  dismissed,  has  left  her  mark  behind  her,  as  you 
see ;  and  a  very  ugly  mark  it  is." 

"  She  isn't  ugly  at  all !"  exclaimed  George,  by  no 
means  comprehending  the  drift  of  his  mother's  re 
mark,  but  understanding  clearly  enough  that  Misa 
Harper  was  the  subject  of  disparaging  words. 
"  She's  beautiful,  and  I  love  her.  I  do  !" 

"Madeline    dear," — Mrs.  Dainty    turned    from 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


George,  over  whom  she  had  but  little  influence, 
and  spoke  very  pleasantly, — "  let  me  present  you  to 
Mrs.  Jeckyl,  who  is  to  be  your  governess  in  the 
place  of  Miss  Harper." 

But  the  child,  instead  of  advancing  toward  Mrs. 
Feckyl,  stepped  back  slowly, — as  if  the  woman's 
eyes  were  two  broad,  strong  hands,  pushing  her 
away, — receding  until  she  stood  against  the  wall. 

"  Madeline !  Come  here  this  moment !  What  do 
you  mean?"  Mrs.  Dainty  spoke  sharply. 

The  child  now  moved,  sideling,  along  the  wall, 
keeping  her  gaze  fixed,  as  by  a  kind  of  fascination, 
upon  Mrs.  Jeckyl,  until  she  came  opposite  "to  where 
her  mother  was  sitting.  Then,  not  withdrawing 
her  eyes  for  an  instant  from  the  strange  woman's 
face,  she  came  forward  and  stood  by  her  mother's 
Bide. 

"This  is  my  second  daughter,  Madeline,"  said 
Mrs.  Dainty,  pushing  the  child  toward  Mrs.  Jeckyl. 

"How  are  you,  my  dear?"  Mrs.  Jeckyl,  seeming 
not  to  observe  the  intense  repugnance  of  the  child, 
reached  out  a  hand,  and,  taking  hold  of  Madeline, 
drew  her  almost  forcibly  to  her  side. 

"What  a  nice  little  girl!"  she  said,  holding  her 
tightly  in  one  hand,  and  smoothing  her  hair  with 
the  other.  "  What  sweet  curls !  Where  did  you 
get  them,  dear?" 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.          97 


But  Madeline,  with  a  flushed,  half-frighteued 
face,  tried  to  release  herself  from  the  woman's  firm 
grip. 

"  What  dear  children  you  have !"  said  Mrs. 
Jeckyl,  now  insinuating  an  arm  around  Madeline, 
and  continuing  to  smooth  her  hair  with  gentle  but 
regularly-repeated  passes.  "We  shall  be  the  best 
of  friends  in  a  little  while.  I  shall  love  them  very 
much." 

Once  or  twice  Madeline,  over  whose  face  rapid 
changes  were  passing,  (at  one  moment  it  was  deeply 
flushed,  and  at  the  next  overspread  by  a  strange 
pallor,)  made  a  spring  in  the  effort  to  release  her 
self.  But  the  hand  of  Mrs.  Jeckyl,  that  was  upon 
her  arm,  tightened  to  a  vice-like  grasp,  while  the 
other  intermitted  not  for  an  instant  its  regular 
motions,  just  above,  or  slightly  touching,  her 
hair. 

"We  shall  be  very  good  friends,  madam, — the 
best  of  friends.  I  always  attach  children  strongly." 
Mrs.  Jeckyl  spoke  confidently,  and  like  one  wholly 
at  her  ease. 

At  this  moment  Mrs.  Dainty  became  oppressed 
with  a  feeling  of  vague  terror,  united  with  an  almost 
intolerable  repugnance  toward  Mrs.  Jeckyl;  and  it 
was  with  an  effort  that  she  overcame  the  impulse  to 
spring  forward  and  snatch  Madeline  from  her  invest- 
Q  9 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


ing  arm.  A  little  while  she  struggled  weakly  against 
this  strange  feeling;  then  it  passed  slowly  away, 
and,  like  one  awakening  from  a  dream,  she  found 
the  current  of  her  life  moving  on  once  more  in  its 
regular  channels.  But  she  had  a  different  impres 
sion  of  Mrs.  Jeckyl,  and  a  new  feeling  toward  her. 
It  seemed  as  if  they  had  been  suddenly  removed 
from  each  other,  and  to  so  great  a  distance  that 
immediate  contact  was  forever  impossible.  She 
was  about  suggesting  that  it  might  be  as  well  for 
Mrs.  Jeckyl  to  defer  until  the  next  day  her  formal 
entrance  into  the  family,  when  she  observed  a 
change  in  Madeline,  who,  instead  of  endeavoring 
to  get  away  from  the  new  governess,  now  leaned 
against  her,  although  the  hand  that  held  her  a  little 
while  before  was  no  longer  closed  upon  her  arm. 
Almost  at  the  moment  of  noticing  this,  Mrs.  Jeckyl 
raised  the  unresisting  child  to  her  lap,  who  leaned 
her  head  back  against  her,  and  gazed  up  into  her 
face  with  a  pleased,  confiding,  almost  affectionate, 
look. 

"  I  said  we  would  be  good  friends."  Mrs.  Jeckyl 
glanced  with  an  exultant  smile  toward  Mrs.  Dainty. 
"I  understand  the  art  of  attaching  children.  What 
a  dear,  sweet  child  this  is !  I  promise  myself  a  world 
of  pleasure  in  entering  into  her  pure  young  mind 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.          99 


and  storing  it  with  lessons  of  wisdom.  And  your 
oldest  daughter " 

Mrs.  Jeckyl  turned  her  glittering  eyes — that 
seemed  to  have  in  them  a  charmed  power — upon 
Agnes. 

For  a  moment  or  two  the  young  girl  was  retained 
by  them,  as  if  a  spell  were  on  her:  then  she  turned 
away  and  fled  from  the  room,  her  whole  being  per 
vaded  by  a  strange  sense  of  fear. 

Not  in  the  smallest  degree  did  Mrs.  Jeckyl  seem 
to  be  disconcerted  at  this. 

"Young  people  have  curious  fancies,"  she  said, 
in  an  even  voice.  "I  am  used  to  them,  and  know 
how  to  adapt  myself  to  all  these  variant  peculiari 
ties.  Give  yourself  no  further  trouble  about  my 
position  with  your  children.  I  will  manage  all  that. 
Leave  me  now  with  Madeline  and  George.  I  want 
to  make  their  better  acquaintance.  Come,  Georgie 
dear;  I  have  in  my  pocket  the  funniest  little  box, 
with  the  funniest  little  man  in  it,  you  ever  saw  in 
your  life." 

The  funny  little  box,  and  the  funny  little  man, 
won  over  the  romping  boy,  and  he  went  to  the  side 
of  Mrs.  Jeckyl  without  a  moment's  hesitation. 

It  was  as  much  as  Mrs.  Dainty  could  do  to  tear 
herself  from  the  apartment  and  leave  her  two  little 


100       THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


children  alone  with  this  woman.  She  felt  a  vague 
sense  of  evil.  A  shadow,  as  from  the  wing  of 
danger,  seemed  to  have  fallen  upon  her  spirit.  But 
Mrs.  Jeckyl  asked  to  be  alone  with  them,  and  she 
felt  that  she  must  retire. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        101 


CHAPTER  X. 

A  LITTLE   BKEEZE. 

""WHO  is  that  old  woman  I  met  on  the  stairs  just 
now  ?"  inquired  Mr.  Fleetwood,  late  in  the  afternoon 
of  the  day  made  memorable  by  the  entrance  of  Mrs. 
Jeckyl  into  the  Dainty  family. 

"It  is  our  new  governess,"  replied  Agnes,  to 
whom  the  question  was  addressed.  A  look  of  dis 
gust  marred  her  face  as  she  spoke. 

"Your  new  governess!"  exclaimed  Uncle  John, 
in  amazement.  "When  did  she  come,  and  where 
from  ?" 

"She  came  two  hours  ago;  but  whether  she 
dropped  from  the  clouds,  or  was  dug  out  of  the  earth, 
is  more  than  I  can  tell.  She's  horrible !  I  don't 
know  what's  come  over  mother !" 

"  Who  is  she  ?    What  is  her  name  ?" 

"A  wicked-looking  old  woman,  whom  mother 
calls  an  accomplished  English  lady.  Her  name  ia 
Jeckyl." 

"Jeckyl?  Jeckyl?"  Uncle  John  shook  his 
head.  "Kever  heard  of  her  before." 

9* 


102        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"Nor  anybody  else  but  mother.  And  where  she 
found  her,  the  dear  only  knows  !" 

"  "Why  was  Florence  Harper  sent  away  ?" 

A  sad  expression  came  into  the  face  of  Agnes,  as 
she  replied, — 

"My  fault,  I  suppose.  In  my  blind  self-will,  I 
resisted  her  when  she  was  right  and  I  was  wrong ; 
and  I  complained  of  her  unjustly.  Mother  talked 
very  roughly  to  her, — she's  always  done  that ;  and 
then — and  then,  I  believe,  Miss  Harper  went 
away." 

"  Miss  Harper  was  a  kind,  good  girl,"  said  Uncle 
John,  "  and  tried  always  to  do  what  was  right.  I 
am  sorry  you  misunderstood  or  resisted  her,  for  she 
was  the  best  friend  you  will  ever  find  in  a  gover 
ness." 

"  I  know  she  was,  uncle ;  and  I  have  learned  it 
just  too  late.  Oh,  I  would  give  any  thing  in  the 
world  to  have  her  back  again." 

"I  must  see  your  mother  at  once,"  said  Uncle 
John.  "Where  is  she?" 

"In  her  own  room." 

""Will  you  say  that  I  want  her?" 

Agnes  went  to  her  mother's  room. 

"Uncle  John  wishes  to  see  you,"  said  she. 

"What  does  he  want  to  see  me  about?"  asked 
Mrs.  Dainty. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        108 


"  I  don't  know.  He's  waiting  for  you  over  in  the 
sitting-room." 

"  Tell  him  I'm  engaged  just  now." 

But  that  reply  didn't  suit  Uncle  John  at  all.  His 
niece  had  no  business  to  be  engaged,  to  him ! 

"What  is  she  doing  ?"  he  inquired  of  Agnes. 

"Reading." 

"  Ah,  well !  If  she  can't  come  to  me,  I  can,  at 
least,  go  to  her."  And  Uncle  John  left  the  sitting- 
room.  Mrs.  Dainty  started  and  looked  confused  as 
Mr.  Fleetwood  entered  her  chamber. 

"Very  particularly  engaged?"  said  the  old  gentle 
man,  a  little  sarcastically. 

"I  didn't  imagine  that  your  business  was  one  of 
life  and  death!"  retorted  Mrs.  Dainty,  with  height 
ening  color. 

"And  yet  it  may  be,  for  all  your  defect  of  imagi 
nation,"  said  the  old  man,  seating  himself  with  the 
air  of  one  who  had  something  on  his  mind. 

"Where  is  Florence  Harper?" 

"  That  is  a  question  not  in  my  power  to  answer," 
replied  Mrs.  Dainty.  "She  left  here  some  hours 
ago." 

"  Why  did  she  leave  ?" 

"  I  sent  her  away." 

"For  what  cause?" 

"  She  did  not  suit  me." 


104        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"In  what  respect?" 

"In  all  respects." 

"A  sweeping  range  of  objections,  truly.  May  I 
ask  another  question  ?" 

"Forty,  if  you  like." 

"  Who  is  that  old  woman  I  met  on  the  stairs  a 
little  while  ago?"  • 

"Old  woman!  I've  seen  no  old  woman"  Mrs. 
Dainty  emphasized  the  last  words. 

"A  middle-aged  woman,  then,  with  a  hard — 
almost  wicked — face.  She  was  dressed  in  black." 

"  Our  new  governess,  probably,"  said  Mrs.  Dainty. 

"That  old  hag  your  new  governess!"  Uncle 
John  felt  outraged,  and  spoke  intemperately. 

"I  beg  of  you  not  to  use  such  language,  Uncle 
John."  Mrs.  Dainty  affected  calmness,  and  spoke 
in  a  tone  of  quiet  rebuke.  "  The  person  to  whom 
you  refer  is  an  accomplished  English  lady,  whose 
husband — a  man  of  rank,  I  believe — died  in  the 
East  India  Company's  service." 

"Poh!  A  cast-off,  superannuated  lady's  maid, 
more  like !"  retorted  Uncle  John,  with  overflowing 
indignation. 

"  This  is  insufferable !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Dainty, 
losing  temper. 

"What  is  insufferable?" 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        105 


It  was  Uncle  John's  turn  to  assume  an  exterior 
calmness. 

"Your  unwarrantable  interference  in  our  family 
concerns  !  It  has  come  to  a  pretty  pass  when  I  can 
not  even  buy  a  beefsteak,  or  turn  off  a  disorderly 
domestic,  but  you  must  interfere  in  the  matter  and 
volunteer  an  ignorant  condemnation.  To  tell  you 
the  plain  truth,  Uncle  John,  I  am  getting  very  tired 
of  this,  and  wish  it  to  end.  I  didn't  consult  you 

about  this  affair,  because  I  didn't  think  it  one  in 

» 

which  you  had  any  rights  or  interest." 

"Indeed!  You  ignore  my  interests  quite  sum 
marily.  Pray,  did  you  consult  your  husband?" 
inquired  Mr.  Fleetwood. 

"No,  I  did  not!"  was  replied.  "There  was  no 
occasion  to  worry  his  mind  on  the  subject." 

"Probably  you  thought  he  had  no  more  right  in 
the  case  than  your  troublesome  old  uncle,"  said  Mr. 
Fleetwood,  sarcastically. 

"Whether  he  had  or  not  doesn't  signify  in  the 
present  controversy,"  replied  Mrs.  Dainty,  stil 
showing  a  great  deal  of  angry  excitement.  "I  chose 
to  send  away  an  offensive,  upstart  American  girl, 
who  didn't  know  her  place,  and  who  kept  the  chil 
dren  by  the  ears  half  of  the  time,  and  take  in  her 
stead  an  accomplished,  middle-aged  lady,  with  years 


106         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


and  experience  on  her  side.  I  have  no  question  in 
regard  to  my  husband's  acquiescence,  and  therefore 
shall  not  permit  you  to  hector  me  on  the  subject. 
So  pray,  Uncle  John,  spare  me  any  further  annoy 
ance  !  It  will  only  tend  to  produce,  in  both  of  us, 
states  of  unkinduess." 

"Where  so  much  is  at  stake,  I  must  venture 
much,"  said  Mr.  Fleetwood.  "I  pray  you,  in  turn, 
be  not  offended,  if  I  press  you  on  this  subject.  The 
love  I  bear  for  you  and  these  children  will  not  let 
me  keep  silence.  You  have  strangely  misappre 
hended  Florence  Harper.  She " 

"Uncle  John!"  Mrs.  Dainty  interrupted  the  old 
gentleman,  "I  have  shut  the  door  against  her:  so 
let  her  name  die  in  this  house.  I  shall  not  consent 
to  canvass  with  you  either  her  good  or  evil  qualities. 
I  know  just  as  much  of  her  as  I  ever  care  to  know." 

"What  do  you  know  of  this  Mrs.  Jeckyl,  to  whom, 
in  such  mad  haste,  you  have  given  over  the  care  of 
your  children  ?  An  accomplished  English  lady  ?  Is 
that  the  extent  of  your  knowledge  ?  Did  you  ever 
hear  of  her  before  to-day?" 

"  Go  on,  Uncle  John  !  Go  on  !  I  will  try  to  be 
patient!"  said  Mrs.  Dainty,  leaning  back  in  her 
chair  and  forcing  to  her  lips  a  smile  of  resignation. 

"A  fig  for  your  patience!  Answer  me  in 
reason!"  retorted  the  old  gentleman. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        107 


"I  will  when  I  make  you  my  father  confessor; 
but  not  before.  I  have  no  need  at  present  for  such 
a  ghostly  appendage." 

In  this  spirit  the  controversy  went  on  for  more 
than  half  an  hour,  no  advantage  whatever  being 
gained  by  Uncle  John.  Mrs.  Dainty  said  that  she 
had  tried  a  governess  of  his  selection,  and  tried  her 
faithfully;  and  now  she  was  going  to  try  one  of  her 
own  choosing,  and,  if  he  talked  until  doomsday,  it 
would  not,  in  the  smallest  degree,  affect  her  purposes 
in  the  case. 

Most  reluctantly  did  Mr.  Fleetwood  consent  to 
abandon  the  argument.  He  felt  that  too  much  was 
at  stake.  But  a  woman's  will  in  the  case  was  alto 
gether  too  strong  for  him.  Mrs.  Dainty  had  made 
up  her  mind  to  have  her  own  way,  and  all  remon 
strance,  argument,  and  persuasion  went  with  her  for 
nothing. 


108         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE   DEMON   UNVEILED. 

"  SUCH  a  scene  as  I  have  had  with  that  meddle 
some  old  uncle  of  mine !"  said  Mrs.  Dainty  to  Mrs. 
Jeckyl.  The  two  ladies  met  in  the  room  of  the 
latter,  whither  Mrs.  Dainty  repaired  as  soon  as  Mr. 
Fleetwood,  hopeless  of  gaining  any  influence  over 
her,  had  retired,  discomfited,  from  the  field  of  con 
troversy. 

"  On  what  subject?"  inquired  the  new  governess. 

"Oh,  about  you!"  said  Mrs.  Dainty. 

"About  me?  What  about  me?"  The  small, 
gray  eyes  of  Mrs.  Jeckyl  lightened. 

"I  told  you  that  Miss  Harper,  that  abominable 
girl  I  sent  off  to-day,  was  a  pet  of  his." 

"Ah,  yes;  I  remember.  "Well,  there's  one  thing 
very  certain,  madam :  he'll  find  no  pet  or  plaything 
in  me!"  There  was  the  look  of  an  ogre  in  the 
woman's  skinny  face.  "I  met  him  on  the  stairs  an 
hour  ago :  one  glance  told  me  his  character.  I  read 
him  like  a  book." 

"How  did  you  read  him?"  asked  Mrs.  Dainty. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         109 


"He's  an  old  cot-betty !  A  tiling  I  despise!" 
said  Mrs.  Jeckyl,  with  contempt. 

"  He's  kind-hearted."  Mrs.  Dainty  uttered  a  word 
of  apology  for  Uncle  John.  It  came  from  her  lips 
almost  unbidden. 

"  Kind-hearted !  Any  fool  may  be  kind-hearted," 
said  Mrs.  Jeckyl,  "  and  yet  be  very  annoying  in  his 
folly.  I  never  had  much  fancy  for  what  are  called 
kind-hearted  people  by  way  of  apology  for  a  thou 
sand  annoying  vices  and  defects  of  character." 

"  Uncle  John  has  few  defects  of  character,  and  no 
vices."  Mrs.  Dainty  could  not  help  this  just  defence 
of  her  excellent  relative. 

"By  your  own  showing,  madam,"  said  Mrs. 
Jeckyl,  affecting  a  pleasant  tone,  "  he  is  very  much 
inclined  to  be  meddlesome  in  your  affairs:  that  I 
call  a  vice.  If  you  think  the  appellation  too  severe, 
you  can  call  the  peculiarity  by  another  name.  I 
can't  tolerate  such  men  !" 

"  I  don't  ask  your  toleration  of  him.  Only  avoid, 
if  possible,  giving  offence.  For  my  mother's  sake, 
if  not  for  his  own,  I  must  bear  with  him  and  treat 
him  with  all  considerate  kindness." 

"I'll  manage  him,"  said  Mrs.  Jeckyl.  "So  don't 
give  yourself  any  trouble  about  his  interference  with 
my  duties  or  privileges  in  the  house." 

There  was  considerable  modification  in  the  tone 
10 


110        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


and  manner  of  Mrs.  Jeckyl.  She  saw  that  she  had 
shown  her  rough  side  a  little  too  plainly,  and  that 
there  were  reasons  why  Mrs.  Dainty  could  not  ignore 
Uncle  John  altogether. 

"You  must  bear  as  kindly  as  possible  with  his 
peculiarities.  He  means  well,"  said  Mrs.  Dainty,  as 
a  very  feeling  sense  of  her  many  obligations  to 
Uncle  John,  past,  present,  and  to  come,  grew  dis 
tinct  in  her  mind. 

"  He  won't  trouble  me  any."  Mrs.  Jeckyl  smiled 
in  a  lamb-like  way, — or,  rather,  tried  so  to  smile. 
But  the  effort  was  one  so  unusual  to  her  that  she 
failed  in  the  result;  and  Mrs.  Dainty  was  in  some 
doubt  as  to  the  meaning  of  the  curious  expression 
that  came  into  the  woman's  face.  She  had  visited 
the  room  of  Mrs.  Jeckyl  for  the  purpose  of  having 
a  very  free  talk  about  Uncle  John,  and  also  for  the 
purpose  of  settling  with  that  lady  some  very  decided 
plans  of  operation  in  regard  to  him.  But  the  spirit 
in  which  Mrs.  Jeckyl  showed  herself  disposed  to 
act  rather  cooled  her  ardor,  and  set  her  to  thinking 
in  a  new  direction. 

The  conference  closed  almost  abruptly,  and  little 
to  the  satisfaction  of  either  party.  Mrs.  Dainty 
more  than  half  repented  of  her  hasty  action  in 
taking  this  strange  woman  into  the  house  and  giving 
over  her  children  to  a  guardianship  and  an  influence 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        Ill 


that  might  be  for  evil  instead  of  good.  When  her 
husband  questioned  her,  she  put  as  bold  a  face  upon 
the  matter  as  was  possible, — denouncing  Miss  Har 
per  in  unmeasured  terms,  and  extolling  the  edu 
cated,  accomplished  English  lady  whom  she  had 
been  so  fortunate  as  to  secure  in  her  place. 

"It  is  best,  sometimes,  to  let  well-enough  alone," 
said  Mr.  Dainty,  on  learning  from  his  wife  the 
change  she  had  seen  proper  to  make  in  a  matter  of 
so  much  importance.  "And  I  think  Miss  Harper 
was  at  least  well  enough." 

This  was  all  he  remarked,  and  Mrs.  Dainty  saw 
it  best  to  leave  the  matter,  so  far  as  he  was  con 
cerned,  just  there.  His  easy  indifference  left  her 
generally  free  to  do  about  as  she  pleased :  so,  when 
ever  he  failed  of  prompt  acquiescence  in  any  course 
she  designed  to  take,  she  pursued  the  easy  policy  of 
not  disturbing  his  mind  on  the  subject. 

"  Oh,  she's  hateful !  I'll  get  a  gun  and  shoot  her!" 
It  was  little  George  who  thus  freely  expressed  his 
indignant  appreciation  of  the  new  governess.  Ha 
was  talking  to  Madeline ;  and  they  were  near  enough 
to  their  mother's  door  to  be  heard  distinctly. 

"I  wish  Miss  Harper  was  back  again,"  said  Made 
line.  Her  voice  had  a  mournful  sound  in  the  eara 
of  Mrs.  Dainty.  "  I  loved  her  so." 

"  Miss  Harper  was  good,  but  this  old  woman  is 


112         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


hateful.  What  made  you  sit  in  her  lap  and  lean 
your  head  against  her?" 

"I  don't  know.  I  couldn't  help  it,"  replied  Made 
line,  still  speaking  in  a  kind  of  plaintive  way.  "I 
wish  mother  would  send  her  out  of  the  house.  I'm 
afraid  of  her." 

"I'm  not  afraid  of  her!"  spoke  out  little  George, 
boldly.  "And  I  don't  mean  to  say  a  single  lesson." 

"That  won't  be  right,"  said  Madeline.  "She  is 
our  teacher,  you  know." 

"  She  isn't  my  teacher  if  I  don't  choose ;  and  I 
don't  choose,"  responded  young  America.  "I'll  say 
my  lessons  to  Miss  Harper ;  and  I  won't  say  them 
to  anybody  else." 

"Madeline  dear!"  It  was  a  new  voice  among 
the  interlocutors,  and  the  tones  send  a  strange  thrill 
among  the  nerves  of  Mrs.  Dainty. 

All  was  silent  for  some  moments.  The  presence 
of  the  new-comer  seemed  to  have  thrown  a  spell 
over  the  children. 

"  Come,  dear ;  I  want  to  show  you  something 
beautiful  I  have  in  my  room." 

Mrs.  Dainty  sat  breathlessly  still,  listening.  There 
was  the  sound  as  of  a  child  rising  slowly  from  the 
floor. 

"Come,  George."     It  was  the  same  voice. 

"A'n't  a-going  to!"  was  the  quick,  sturdy  reply. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        118 


"Yes,  George;  come.  I've  got  some  beautiful 
things  up  in  my  room." 

"  Don't  go,  Madeline !"  said  George.  "  She's  got 
a  snake  up  there,  and  it'll  bite  you !  I  saw  it  as  I 
passed  her  door !" 

"You  wicked  little  wretch!"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Jeckyl,  thrown  for  a  moment  off  her  guard.  "  How 
dare  you  utter  such  a  falsehood?" 

"Mother!"  It  was  the  voice  of  Madeline,  and 
its  low  tones  came  to  Mrs.  Dainty's  ears  with  such 
an  appealing  fear  in  them  that  she  repressed  only 
by  a  strong  effort  an  impulse  to  rush  forth  into  the 
passage  and  catch  the  child  up  in  her  arms.  But  she 
sat  still  and  listened. 

"Don't  go,  Maddy!"  persisted  George,  nothing 
daunted.  "  She  has  got  a  snake  there.  I  saw  it." 

A  wild  cry  of  fear  now  broke  from  the  lips  of 
Madeline,  that  went  thrilling  through  the  house. 
Mrs.  Dainty  sprung  from  her  room  and  caught  the 
child  from  Mrs.  Jeckyl's  grasp.  As  she  did  so, 
Madeline  shrunk  against  and  clung  to  her,  while 
her  whole  frame  quivered  as  you  have  felt  a  bird 
quiver  in  your  hand. 

"What  ails  you,  dear?"  Mrs.  Dainty  laid  her 
face  down  upon  the  child's  face,  and  spoke  very 
tenderly. 

"It's  that  wicked  little  boy  of  yours,"  said  Mrs. 

H  10* 


114         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


Jeckyl,  "who  has  been  frightening  her  with  the 
Btory  of  a  snake  in  my  room.  How  dare  you  do  so, 
sir?" 

"  Well,  so  you  have  !"  persisted  little  Don't  Care. 
"  I  saw  it.  There  it  is  now,  in  your  bosom !  See ! 
If  its  head  isn't  peeping  out  alongside  of  your 
neck!" 

It  was  now  Mrs.  Jeckyl's  turn  to  start  and  look 
frightened.  So  natural  and  earnest  was  the  boy's 
tones,  that  even  she  was  for  a  moment  deceived, 
and  clutched  convulsively  at  the  imaginary  snake. 

"  Too  bad !"  she  exclaimed,  recovering  herself. 
"Too  bad!" 

Others  soon  joined  the  little  group  at  the  door  of 
Mrs.  Dainty's  chamber ;  for  the  cry  of  Madeline  had 
reached  every  ear  in  the  dwelling.  Among  the  first 
to  arrive  was  Uncle  John. 

"  She  did  it !"  cried  George,  pointing  to  Mrs. 
Jeckyl.  "  She  did  it !" 

"Did  what?"  asked  Uncle  John. 

"Frightened  Maddy!  She's  got  a  snake  in  her 
bosom !  Take  care !" 

"A  snake !"    Uncle  John  looked  puzzled. 

"  I  saw  it  in  her  room ;  and  she's  got  it  in  her 
bosom  now,"  persisted  the  little  fellow,  quite  de 
lighted  in  observing  the  storm  he  had  raised,  and 
more  delighted  at  the  discomfiture  of  the  enemy. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         115 


"You  wicked  little  wretch!"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Jeckyl,  advancing  toward  the  boy. 

George  glided  behind  Uncle  John,  and,  peering 
out  from  his  place  of  refuge,  made  a  new  attack. 

"  They're  in  her  eyes  now !  Don't  let  her  come 
near  you,  sister  Aggy !  Take  care,  papa !  Old  snake! 
She's  the  mother  of  snakes !  See  !  They're  crawling 
all  over  her!" 

A  tiger  about  to  spring  upon  his  victim  could  not 
have  glared  with  two  more  cruel  eyes  than  those 
that  sought  the  form  of  little  George. 

"  Silence !"  cried  Mr.  Dainty,  who  had  joined  the 
excited  company.  "  Silence !"  he  repeated,  sternly, 
as  George  attempted  to  speak  again.  "  What  does 
all  this  mean?" 

"It  simply  means,"  said  Mrs.  Jeckyl,  with  forced 
composure,  "  that  this  little  boy  of  yours  has  fright 
ened  his  sister  with  an  improbable  story  of  a  snake 
in  my  room.  He  seems  to  have  a  fruitful  imagina 
tion,  as  he  now  multiplies  the  snake  by  a  score,  and 
covers  my  body  with  them." 

Uncle  John  now  observed  Madeline,  who  stood 
with  her  face  hidden  upon  her  mother's  bosom,  and 
shrinking  very  closely  to  her,  turn  her  head  slowly 
and  look  at  Mrs.  Jeckyl.  Her  countenance  was 
pale,  and  her  eyes  had  a  strange — almost  terrified — 
expression.  She  gave  only  a  single  glance,  and  then 


116        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


hid  her  face  again,  while  a  low  shudder  was  seen 
pervading  her  hody. 

"It  is  plain,"  said  Uncle  John,  taking  advantage 
of  the  singular  state  of  affairs  presented,  and  address- 
ng  the  new  governess,  "  that  your  efforts  to  gain 
.nfluence  over  these  children  have  heen  unsuccessful, 
and  that,  judging  from  the  present  state  of  affairs, 
such  efforts  in  the  future  will  he  hopeless.  My  ad 
vice  to  you,  therefore,  is  to  retire  immediately." 

"I  have  no  knowledge  of  you,  sir,  in  the  case," 
replied  Mrs.  Jeckyl,  growing  at  once  self-possessed, 
and  speaking  with  dignity.  "  I  am  here,  under  regular 
engagement  with  Mrs.  Dainty,  to  perform  a  service 
to  her  children,  for  which  I  hold  myself  entirely 
competent,  and  to  recede  from  which  under  the 
reaction  of  simple  child's-play  like  this  I  am  not  in 
the  least  inclined.  Am  I  covered  with  snakes,  sir  ?" 

"Not  literally,"  replied  Uncle  John. 

"  Not  literally !  "What  am  I  to  understand,  sir,  hy 
your  words?" 

"  Simply  the  meaning  they  convey  to  your  mind. 
Nothing  more." 

"Are  there  snakes  in  my  eyes?"  The  woman  was 
losing  her  forced  composure. 

"Say  yes,  Uncle  John !  Say  yes  !"  spoke  out  little 
George. 

"  If  you  look  into  a  mirror,  you  cari  see  for  your- 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        117 


self,"  replied  the  old  gentleman,  who,  now  that  he 
had  come  fairly  into  conflict  with  the  stranger,  de 
termined  to  adopt  any  mode  of  warfare  that  would 
drive  her  from  the  house.  "I  don't  wonder  that 
you  frightened  Madeline." 

"Uncle  John  !"  Mrs.  Dainty  now  made  a  feeble 
effort  to  speak  in  favor  of  her  new  governess.  "This 
is  insufferable !  Am  I  to  have  no  control  in  my  own 
house  ?  Are  people  to  be  insulted " 

"Oh,  mother!  mother!  send  her  away !" 

It  was  Madeline  who  interrupted  Mrs.  Dainty,  as 
she  lifted  her  face  with  a  look  of  such  pleading  fear 
that  it  checked  her  utterance.  And  the  shudder 
that  thrilled  the  child's  frame  was  so  strong  that  it 
sent  the  blood  coldly  to  her  mother's  heart. 

"Madam!"  (Mr.  Dainty  now  assumed  the  con 
trolling  power,  and  spoke  to  Mrs.  Jeckyl  like  a  man 
who  was  in  earnest,)  "  after  this  scene  you  cannot 
remain  here  in  any  comfort  to  yourself,  nor  in  any 
acceptance  in  our  family.  I  beg  you,  therefore,  to 
retire  from  the  house,  and  at  once." 

"Sir "  Mrs.  Jeckyl  made  an  effort  to  repty, 

but  Mr.  Dainty  would  have  no  parley  with  her. 
"Madeline,"  he  said,  laying  his  hand  upon  his  wife 
and  speaking  very  firmly,  "go  into  your  room  with 
Maddy  and  George;  and  you,  Agnes,  leave  us." 

There  was  db  hesitation  on  the  part  of  any  thus 


118        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


addressed,  for  all,  except  George,  were  more  than 
glad  to  get  out  of  the  presence  of  Mrs.  Jeckyl.  He, 
— little  rebel ! — as  he  went  at  his  father's  bidding, 
looked  back  over  his  shoulder,  and  called  out, — 

"Snakes!    Snakes  1" 

As  soon  as  Mrs.  Jeckyl  was  alone  with  Mr.  Dainty 
and  Uncle  John,  and  found  herself  without  any 
chance  of  holding  the  place  she  was  in  reality  parti 
cularly  desirous  to  retain,  she  gave  full  course  to 
her  indignant  feelings,  and  for  some  minutes  poured 
forth  a  torrent  of  mad  invective.  Not  a  single  word 
was  said  in  reply;  and  so,  like  one  beating  the  air,  she 
soon  exhausted  herself.  Her  departure  was  like  the 
lifting  of  a  storm-cloud  from  the  dwelling  of  Mr. 
Dainty ;  but  the  storm  did  not  pass  without  leaving 
some  traces  of  its  evil  work.  Scarcely  had  Mr.  Dainty 
seen  this  woman  beyond  the  threshold,  ere  he  was 
startled  by  a  cry  of  distress  from  his  wife,  and  the 
eager  calling  of  his  name.  On  reaching  the  chamber 
from  which  her  voice  came,  he  saw  Madeline  lying 
upon  the  bed,  pale  and  deathly  in  appearance ;  and 
when  he  laid  his  hands  upon  her  he  found  that  she 
was  rigid  and  insensible. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        119 


CHAPTER 

A    FEARFUL     MYSTEET. 

THE  family  physician,  who  was  hurriedly  sum 
moned  to  the  strangely-affected  child,  entered  the 
dwelling  of  Mr.  Dainty  in  about  thirty  minutes 
after  the  departure  of  Mrs.  Jeckyl.  He  found 
Madeline  showing  a  few  signs  of  returning  anima 
tion,  but  not  of  conscious  life.  Her  face  was  still 
of  an  ashen  hue,  and  its  expression  painful  to  look 
upon.  At  first  he  asked  no  questions,  endeavoring, 
by  an  observation  of  her  symptoms,  to  comprehend 
the  case.  He  soon  saw  that  extraordinary  causes 
had  been  at  work,  and  that  the  child's  condition 
was  one  not  to  be  reached  through  ordinary  treat 
ment.  After  looking  at  her  for  some  minutes,  and 
examining  all  the  life-indications,  he  said,  turning 
to  Mr.  Dainty, — 

"  How  long  has  she  been  in  this  state?" 

"  More  than  half  an  hour." 

"What  produced  it?" 

"I  am   not  able  to  answer  your  question, — at 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


least,  not  satisfactorily.     To  me  her  state  is  unac 
countable." 

"Had  she  a  fall,  or  a  fright?"  asked  the  physi 
cian. 

"  Neither.     And  yet  her  mind  was  seriously  dis 
turbed." 

"By  what?" 

"  I  can  scarcely  explain,  for  I  am  in  doubt  my 
self." 

"Perhaps  your  wife  can  answer  my  questions 
more  clearly."  And  the  physician  addressed  him 
self  to  Mrs.  Dainty.  But  the  mother  was  silent. 
To  her  mind  there  was  a  deep  mystery  in  the 
affair.  That  Madeline's  state  was,  in  some  way, 
dependent  upon  Mrs.  Jeckyl's  influence  over  her, 
she  had  a  vague  conviction.  But  as  to  the  manner 
and  meaning  of  this  influence  she  was  in  total 
ignorance. 

"Will  you  inform  me,  as  briefly  as  possible,  as  to 
the  condition  of  things  existing  at  the  time  this  par 
tial  suspension  of  life  took  place?" 

The  physician  addressed  Mrs.  Dainty. 

"  I  think  she  was  frightened  at  something  said  by 
George,"  Mrs.  Dainty  answered. 

"What  was  that  something?" 

"  He  said  that  our  governess  had  a  snake  in  her 
bosom,  and  that  snakes  were  crawling  all  over  her." 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        121 


The  doctor  looked  thoughtfully  upon  the  floor, 
and  waited  for  additional  information.  But  Mrs. 
Dainty  said  nothing  further.  Little  George  was 
standing  close  to  the  bedside.  As  the  doctor 
raised  his  head,  his  eyes  rested  upon  the  boy's  face. 

"  I  think,"  he  said,  as  he  looked  at  the  bright- 
eyed  child,  "  that  you  must  have  seen  very  sharp  to 
find  serpents  about  Miss  Harper." 

"  Oh,  it  wasn't  Miss  Harper!"  replied  the  boy,  in 
a  quick  tone :  "  she's  lovely !" 

"Who,  then,  was  it?  I  thought  Miss  Harper  was 
governess  to  your  children?"  And  the  physician 
turned  to  Mrs.  Dainty. 

"  No,  sir ;  Miss  Harper  is  no  longer  the  governess 
of  my  children." 

There  was  a  certain  coldness  of  manner  about 
Mrs.  Dainty  that  was  meant  to  repress  inquiry  on 
this  particular  subject. 

"  I  hope,  madam,"  said  the  doctor,  speaking  with 
some  earnestness,  and  a  little  severity  of  tone, 
"  that  you  will  be  as  unreserved  as  possible  in  your 
communications.  Unless  I  have  all  the  kiforma- 
tion  in  regard  to  the  cause  of  Madeline's  illness 
that  it  is  in  your  power  to  give  me,  it  will  be  im 
possible  to  prescribe  intelligently,  or  with  any 
hope  of  reaching  the  case.  Miss  Harper,  I 

understand,   then,   was    not    the   person  to  whom 

11 


122        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


your  little  son  referred  as  having  a  snake  in  her 
bosom?" 

As  Mrs.  Dainty  did  not  reply  immediately,  Uncle 
John  spoke  out  in  his  blunt  way,  and  right  to  the 
purpose,  saying, — 

"  No,  it  was  not  Miss  Harper,  but  a  wicked  old 
hag  that  my  niece  picked  up  somewhere.  If  I  had 
any  faith  in  witchcraft,  I  would  believe  that  she  had 
laid  a  spell  on  Madeline." 

The  doctor  now  turned  to  Uncle  John. 

"When  did  this  new  governess  of  whom  you 
speak  come  into  the  family?" 

"  To-day." 

"Only  to-day?" 

"  She  came  into  the  house  only  a  few  hours 
ago." 

"Was  Madeline  well  this  morning?" 

"  Perfectly." 

"  This  is  a  sudden  illness,  then?" 

"  So  I  understand  it,"  replied  Uncle  John.  "  How 
is  it,  Agnes?"  And  he  spoke  to  the  sister  of  Made 
line,  who  was  leaning  over  the  bed,  gazing  with 
wet  eyes  upon  her  pallid  face.  "Did  Madeline 
show  any  symptoms  of  illness  before  this  sudden 
attack?" 

"  She  has  acted  strangely  ever  since  Mrs.  Jecky] 
came  into  the  house." 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        123 


"Mrs.  Jeckyl!"  said  the  physician,  in  a  tone  of 
surprise. 

The  eyes  of  all  turned  quickly  to  his  face  with 
looks  of  inquiry. 

"  Do  you  know  this  woman?"  asked  Mr.  Dainty. 

"I  am  not  certain.  But  I  think  I  have  heard  the 
name  before."  There  was  an  air  of  evasion  about 
the  doctor. 

"  She  is  an  Englishwoman,"  remarked  Mr.  Fleet- 
wood. 

The  doctor  looked  at  Agnes,  and  pursued  his  in 
quiries. 

"Acted  strangely,  you  say.     In  what  respect?" 

"I  can  hardly  explain,  sir,"  replied  Agnes. 
"  But  I  have  heard  tell  of  birds  being  charmed  by 
serpents;  and  the  way  Madeline  acted  toward  Mrs. 
Jeckyl  made  me  think  all  the  while  of  a  bird  and 
a  serpent.  I  do  not  much  wonder  that  Georgie  saw 
snakes  in  her  eyes.  They  were  the  strangest  eyes  I 
ever  looked  into,  and  made  me  shudder.  She's 
done  something  dreadful  to  Madeline !" 

"Were  they  alone  together?"  inquired  the  phy 
sician. 

"  For  a  little  while." 

"Did  Madeline  seem  repelled,  or  attracted,  by 
this  woman?*' 

"Both.     She  appeared  to  be  drawn  toward  her, 


124        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


yet  acted  like  one  struggling  to  get  away.  Oh,  sir, 
it  was  dreadful !  I  never  met  so  terrible  a  woman ! 
Her  eyes  shone,  sometimes,  like  coals  of  fire.  I 
was  afraid  of  her." 

"  Did  you  see  her  put  her  hands  on  Madeline?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"In  what  manner?" 

"  She  held  her  with  one  hand,  while  with  the 
other  she  smoothed  her  hair." 

"Did  Madeline  try  to  get  away?" 

"At  first  she  did ;  but  after  a  while  all  her  strug 
gles  ceased,  and  she  laid  her  head  back  against  her, 
half  shutting  her  eyes,  and  looking  like  one  just 
going  to  sleep." 

The  doctor's  countenance  assumed  a  still  graver 
aspect. 

"Was  this  woman  an  entire  stranger?"  he  asked, 
in  tones  of  surprise,  turning  to  Mrs.  Dainty. 

"  She  came  highly  recommended  by  Mrs.  Ashton, 
as  an  accomplished  Englishwoman,  the  widow  of  a 
distinguished  officer  who  died  in  the  service  of  the 
East  India  Company." 

"  Her  own  story,  I  suppose,  believed  by  Mrs. 
Ashton  without  evidence.  And  on  this  slight 
knowledge  of  the  woman  you  placed  these  tender, 
impressible  children  under  her  control !" 

And  the  doctor  shook  his  head  ominously. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        125 


"There  has  been  harm  done  here,"  he  added, 
"beyond  my  skill  to  cure." 

"What  harm?"  Mrs.  Dainty's  face  grew  sud 
denly  as  pale  as  the  face  of  her  unconscious 
child. 

"  Do  you  not  know,  madam,"  said  the  doctor, 
"  that  there  are  men  and  women  at  this  day  who 
possess  an  evil  power  over  the  minds  of  those  who 
submit  themselves  to  their  influence,  stronger  than 
even  the  witch  of  Endor  possessed  of  old, — persons 
in  mysterious  league  with  evil  spirits,  who  delight 
through  them  to  break  down  the  soul's  God-given 
freedom  and  make  it  the  slave  of  their  will?  If 
this  were  my  child,  I  would  rather  a  thousand  times 
see  her  pass  upward  into  heaven  than  live  on  here 
exposed  to  the  assaults  of  infernal  spirits,  who,  in 
my  opinion,  have  gained  admittance  to  her  through 
this  evil  woman's  power !" 

"  Doctor,"  said  Mr.  Fleetwood,  laying  his  hand 
upon  the  physician's  arm  with  some  firmness  of 
clasp,  "  no  more  of  that,  if  you  please !  It  is  neither 
the  time  nor  the  place !" 

"  I  stand  rebuked,"  answered  the  doctor.  "  But 
I  feel  strongly  on  this  subject,  and  am  apt  to  speak 
warmly." 

"Time  is  passing,"  said  Mr.  Fleetwood,   "and 

every  moment  is  precious.     This  child  needs  your 

11* 


126         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


most  skilful  attention.  I  think  you  understand 
her  case  as  fully  as  it  can  be  understood  through 
any  further  explanation  at  this  time.  "We  place 
her  in  your  hands.  Do  for  her  to  the  utmost  of 
your  skill." 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         12T 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

DOUBT     AND     ANXIETY. 

IT  was  nearly  two  hours  from  the  time  the  phy 
sician  entered  the  house  of  Mr.  Dainty  before'  he 
retired,  and  then  the  night  had  fallen.  He  left 
Madeline  in  a  natural  slumber,  and  with  her  pulsea 
beating  evenly.  She  had  recovered  from  her  al 
most  cataleptic  condition  with  the  rapidity  of  one 
awakening,  and  showed  a  tranquil  rather  than  dis 
turbed  state  of  mind.  The  presence  of  the  doctor 
seemed  a  little  to  surprise  her,  and  she  asked,  as 
she  looked  from  face  to  face,  who  had  been  sick. 
Soon  after,  like  one  overwearied,  she  sunk  into  a 
gentle  sleep. 

Before  retiring  from  the  house,  the  physician  had 
a  long  conversation  with  Mr.  Dainty  and  Mr.  Fleet- 
wood,  in  which  he  gave  it  as  his  opinion  that  Mrs. 
Jeckyl  had  attempted  to  gain  a  mesmeric  influence 
over  Madeline,  and  with  a  successful  result  that  it 
was  frightful  to  contemplate. 

"She  looked  to  me  like  a  very  fiend  incarnate," 
said  Mr.  Fleetwood.  "I  can  believe  any  thing 


128         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


against  her  as  to  evil  purpose ;  but  I  am  hardly  pre 
pared  to  reach  your  conclusion  in  the  case." 

"  Has  the  child  ever  shown  symptoms  of  nervous 
disease  at  all  resembling  her  present  affection?" 

"  Never,"  replied  Mr.  Dainty. 

"  You  heard  Agnes  describe  the  way  in  which  she 
acted  toward  this  woman  ?" 

"Yes." 

"Was  it  not  remarkable?" 

"Very." 

"  Have  you  any  theory  in  regard  to  it  different 
from  mine?" 

"  I  have  no  theory  on  the  subject,"  said  Mr. 
Dainty.  "  The  whole  thing  is  beyond  my  reach." 

"Are  you  familiar  with  these  modern  phe 
nomena,  which  some  call,  oddly  enough,  spiritual 
ism  ?" 

A  look  of  disgust  came  into  the  face  of  Mr. 
Dainty,  as  he  answered, — 

"No." 

"  If  you  were  familiar  with  them,  either  from 
reading  or  observation,"  said  the  doctor,  "you 
might  be  inclined  to  think  as  I  do  touching  your 
daughter's  sudden  terror,  which  was  followed  by  so 
deep  a  prostration  of  mind  and  body." 

"  Her  imagination,"  said  Mr.  Fleetwood,  "  is  no 
doubt  far  more  active  than  we  had  supposed,  and 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         129 


she  may  have  an  idiosyncrasy  in  regard  to  snakes 
which  threw  her  into  a  condition  of  paralyzing 
terror  when  George  declared  that  the  woman 
had  serpents  crawling  all  over  her.  I  am,  sure 
that  her  eyes  were  remarkably  snaky  at  the  time. 
This,  to  me,  is  a  more  intelligible  explanation." 

The  doctor  did  not  urge  his  view  of  the  case, 
although  his  response  to  Mr.  Fleetwood  was  not  of 
a  character  to  show  any  leaning,  on  his  part,  to  that 
gentleman's  opinion.  After  charging  them  to  keep 
Madeline  as  free  as  possible  from  all  disturbing 
influences,  he  went  away,  promising  to  call  in  the 
morning. 

Before  making  his  visit  to  the  house  of  Mr. 
Dainty  on  the  next  day,  the  doctor,  whose  mind 
had  become  very  much  interested  in  Madeline's 
case,  called  to  see  Mrs.  Ashton,  whom  he  knew  very 
well.  After  making  a  few  friendly  inquiries  about 
her  family,  he  said, — 

"  You  recommended  to  Mrs.  Dainty  an  English 
woman  as  a  suitable  person  to  take  the  place  of 
governess  to  her  children?" 

An  expression  of  surprise  came  into  the  face  of 
Mrs.  Ashton,  as  she  answered, — 

"  I  have  not  the  pleasure  of  an  acquaintance  with 
Mrs.  Dainty." 

For  a  moment  the  doctor  looked  puzzled.    Before 


130        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


he  had  time  to  put  another  question,  Mrs.  Ashton 
said, — 

"There  is  an  Englishwoman  named  Jeckyl " 

"  The  same !  What  do  you  know  of  her?"  The 
doctor  spoke  quickly,  interrupting  the  lady. 

"Very  little,"  replied  Mrs.  Ashton.  "But  why 
do  you  question  me  in  regard  to  this  woman,  Dr. 
Edmonson  ?" 

"  Mrs.  Dainty  engaged  her  on  your  recommenda 
tion." 

"  On  my.  recommendation !" 

"Yes." 

"In  the  first  place,  doctor,  I  don't  know  Mrs. 
Dainty,  except  by  sight;  and,  in  the  second  place, 
I  have  never  recommended  Mrs.  Jeckyl  to  any 
body." 

"  There  has  been  some  deception,  then,"  said  Dr. 
Edmonson. 

"  There  certainly  has,  if  I  have  been  made  to  en 
dorse  the  woman.  I  did  speak  of  her,  to  one  or 
two  persons,  as  an  Englishwoman  who  desired  to 
get  the  situation  of  governess,  and  I  may  have 
spoken  of  her  as  educated  and  accomplished, — not 
so  much  from  my  knowledge  of  her  acquirements 
as  from  her  own  testimony  in  the  case.  And  now 
I  remember  that  somebody  told  me  that  Mrs.  Dainty 
was  about  changing  her  governess,  and  that  I  men- 


THE  ANdEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         131 


tioned  this  to  Mrs.  Jeckyl  and  advised  her  to  see 
about  the  matter.  This  is  the  utmost  of  my  doings 
in  the  case." 

"  What  is  your  impression  of  the  woman  ?"  in 
quired  the  doctor. 

"Not  particularly  favorable,"  said  Mrs.  Ashton. 
"  I  can  hardly  tell  how  she  got  access  to  my  family 
in  the  beginning.  At  first  I  pitied  her  lonely  and 
almost  helpless  condition  in  a  strange  country, 
and  felt  some  interest  in  her;  but  this  interest 
has  steadily  diminished,  until  now  the  woman  is 
so  repulsive  that  I  can  scarcely  endure  her  pre 
sence." 

"  And  this  is  all  you  know  of  her?" 

"  All ;  and  I  am  pained  to  think  that  she  has  been 
received  into  any  family  on  my  supposed  recom 
mendation.  I  should  not  like  her  to  have  a  con 
trolling  influence  over  my  children.  But  pray, 
doctor,  what  has  happened  in  connection  with  her 
and  Mrs.  Dainty's  family  ?  I  hope  she  has  not  been 
robbing  them,  or  any  thing  of  that  kind?" 

"Nothing  of  that  kind,"  answered  the  doctor. 
"  But  I'm  afraid  she  has  been  attempting  mesmeric 
influence  over  one  of  Mrs.  Dainty's  children." 

"  Dr.  Edmonson !" 

There  was  about  Mrs.  Ashton  a  peculiar  tone  and 
manner  that  excited  the  doctor's  curiosity. 


132         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"Are  you  aware  that  she  possesses  any  power  of 
this  kind  ?" 

"  Your  question  throws  a  flood  of  light  into  iny 
mind,"  said  Mrs.  Ashton,  "and  gives,  I  think,  the 
key  to  a  singular  fact  that  has  always  puzzled  me. 
On  occasion  of  one  of  Mrs.  Jeckyl's  visits  here,  my 
little  Emmeline  was  suffering  with  a  sick  headache. 
You  know  how  much  she  has  been  troubled  with 
these  headaches.  She  was  lying  on  the  sofa,  with 
pale  face,  and  red,  suffused  eyes,  when  this  woman 
came  in.  Seeing  that  Emmeline  was  sick,  she  made 
a  number  of  inquiries  about  her,  and  then,  sitting 
down  by  the  sofa,  laid  her  hand,  with  a  light  press 
ure,  as  I  could  see,  upon  her  head.  *  Poor  child !' 
ehe  murmured,  and  then  began  stroking  her  hair. 
I  noticed  that  she  bent  down  and  looked  very 
intently  into  her  face.  I  thought  her  manner  a  little 
curious,  but  did  not  regard  it  as  significant  of  any 
thing  unusual.  This  result  followed:  Emmeline, 
in  less  than  two  minutes,  closed  her  eyes  and  went 
off  into  a  deep  sleep,  which  lasted  over  an  hour,  or 
until  Mrs.  Jeckyl  ended  her  visit.  On  rising  to  go, 
she  referred  to  the  child,  and,  leaning  over  her, 
moved  her  hand,  in  what  struck  me  as  a  singular 
way,  over  her  face.  Emmeline  roused  up  instantly. 
'How  does  your  head  feel,  dear?'  asked  this  woman. 
*  It  does  not  ache  any,'  was  answered.  '  I  thought 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        133 


you  would  be  better,'  said  Mrs.  Jeckyl,  as  if  speak 
ing  to  herself.  Once  or  twice  since,  in  thinking  of 
this  incident,  I  have  had  a  vague  impression  that 
the  sleep  of  Emmeline  on  that  occasion  was  not  a 
natural  one,  and  that  it  depended,  in  some  way,  on 
the  act  of  Mrs.  Jeckyl." 

"I  have  no  doubt  of  it,"  said  Dr.  Edmonson. 

"You  have  not?" 

"No:  evidently  the  woman  transferred,  for  the 
time,  some  will-force  of  her  own  to  the  child,  pro 
ducing  temporary  unconsciousness.  Her  spirit  over 
shadowed  the  helpless  little  one." 

The  words  of  Dr.  Edmonson  sent  a  shudder  along 
the  nerves  of  Mrs.  Ashton. 

"  You  frighten  me !"  she  said. 

"  You  have  cause  to  be  frightened.  When  half- 
insane  men  and  women  step  beyond  the  orderly 
course  of  natural  life  and  invoke  powers  of  evil — 
for  all  things  disorderly  are  evil — to  enable  them  to 
exercise  a  mysterious  and  controlling  influence  over 
their  weaker  fellow  men  and  women,  there  is  subtle 
danger  abroad,  more  fearful  in  its  effects  than  the 
invisible  pestilence  walking  in  darkness  and  wasting 
at  noonday.  It  is  no  light  thing,  Mrs.  Ashton,  to 
disturb  the  divine  harmonies  of  the  human  soul, — 
to  thrust  an  impious  hand  boldly  down  among  its 

hidden  strings !    I  am  amazed  at  the  folly  and  weak- 

12 


134         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


ness  that  prevail  on  this  subject, — at  the  singular 
infatuation  of  well-meaning  persons,  who  permit 
themselves  to  become  the  instruments  of  invisible 
powers  and  influences  the  quality  of  which  even  the 
feeblest  reason  might  determine.  To  hear  some  of 
these  persons  talk  confidently,  and  with  self-satisfied 
tone  and  countenance,  about  penetrating  the  arcana 
of  the  spiritual  world,  excites  my  mirth  sometimes, 
but  oftener  affects  me  with  sadness." 

"I  have  two  or  three  friends,"  said  Mrs.  Ashton, 
"  who  have  been  carried  away  by  these  things,  and 
their  lapse  from  reason  has  caused  me  deep  re 
gret." 

"You  rightly  designate  their  state  of  mind,"  re 
plied  the  doctor,  "as  a  lapse  from  reason.  N"o  mind 
possessing  a  true  rational  balance  is  in  any  danger  of 
falling  from  its  mountain-height  and  crystal  atmo 
sphere,  where  every  thing  is  seen  in  its  true  relation, 
down  into  this  miry  valley,  where  the  thick  atmo 
sphere  distorts  every  object  and  mirage  adds  its 
mocking  illusions.  I  am  in  no  wonder  at  the  re 
sult, — at  toppling  reason,  lapsing  virtue,  desolated 
homes !  Every  tree  may  be  known  by  its  fruit ;  and 
the  product  of  this  has  shown  itself  to  be  evil  from 
rind  to  core ! 

"Never  again,  Mrs.  Ashton,  permit  this  woman 
Jeckyl  to  darken  your  chambers  with  the  shadow 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        135 


of  her  presence.  If  she  have  once  brought  your 
little  Emmeline  under  this  direful  influence  of  which 
we  are  speaking,  she  has  disturbed  the  natural  order 
of  her  mind  and  gained  a  certain  power  over  her. 
4.  second  trance  will  be  induced  more  easily  than 
the  first.  Even  by  her  serpent-eye  she  may  cast  on 
her  a  spell." 

Mrs.  Ashton  grew  pale  and  shuddered. 

"  I  warn  you  in  plain  words,"  added  the  doctor, 
"  speaking  as  I  think,  and  from  a  solemn  sense  of 
duty.  Mrs.  Jeckyl,  if  I  am  to  judge  by  the  way  in 
which  her  presence  and  active  sphere  affected  one 
of  Mrs.  Dainty's  children,  has  a  potency  of  will  al 
most  irresistible.  In  Madeline's  efforts  at  resistance 
— for  she  manifested  from  the  very  beginning  an 
intense  repugnance  toward  the  woman — she  was 
thrown  into  a  condition  of  trance  profound  almost 
as  death.  The  state  in  which  I  discovered  her, 
when  summoned  by  the  family,  was  not  that  of  an 
ordinary  suspension  of  vital  powers.  I  saw  in  an 
instant  that  extraordinary  causes  had  been  at  work. 
And  I  now  fully  comprehend  the  case.  There  has 
been  a  disturbance  of  the  order  of  that  child's  life 
that  may  never  be  corrected.  Ah,  Mrs.  Ashton,  a 
mother  can  never  be  too  careful  in  the  selection  of 
those  who  are  to  be  the  daily  companions,  and,  I 
might  say,  educators,  of  her  children !" 


136        THE  ANGEL  AND  1HE  DEMON. 


From  the  house  of  Mrs.  Ashton,  Dr.  Edmonson 
went  to  Mrs.  Dainty's.  He  found  Madeline  as  well, 
apparently,  as  usual,  and  her  mother's  cheerfulness 
restored.  He  made  an  effort  to  startle  her  mind 
with  a  clear  apprehension  of  the  danger  through 
which  the  child  had  just  passed,  but  only  partially 
succeeded.  Mrs.  Dainty  hadn't  much  faith,  she  said, 
in  the  strange  stories  told  about  the  power  of  mes 
merists,  and  considered  nine-tenths  of  the  alleged 
phenomena  as  sheer  delusion.  She  could  under 
stand  how  Madeline's  repugnance  to  Mrs.  Jeckyl 
might  have  been  so  strong  as  to  produce  vital  sus 
pension  for  a  period;  but  that  Mrs.  Jeckyl  had 
gained  any  power  over  her  was  a  thing  not  to  be 
admitted  for  a  moment. 

The  doctor  observed  Madeline  very  closely,  and 
was  satisfied  that  a  change  had  taken  place. 

"Did  you  sleep  well  last  night?"  he  inquired  of 
her. 

"Not  very  well,"  was  answered. 

"Why?" 

"  I  had  ugly  dreams,  that  waked  me  up." 

"  Often  ?" 

"  Two  or  three  times." 

"  "What  did  you  dream  about  ?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"  Try  if  you  can  remember  one  of  your  dreams." 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         137 


"  I  fell  into  the  water  once,"  said  Madeline. 

"  And  that  woke  you  ?" 

"  Ko,  sir ;  but  I  thought  that  Mrs.  Jeckyl  tried  to 
push  me  under,  and  that  made  me  wake  up." 

The  doctor  looked  very  earnestly  into  Madeline's 
face.  Its  expression  troubled  him. 

"  Can  you  remember  another  dream  ?" 

"  No,  sir :  I  can't  remember  any  more." 

"  You  may  be  thankful,  Mrs.  Dainty,"  said  Dr. 
Edmonson,  "  that  circumstances  so  soon  showed 
the  character  of  this  woman.  The  harm  she  might 
have  done  your  children  is  inconceivable." 

"  I  think  you  put  too  serious  a  face  upon  the 
matter,  doctor,"  replied  Mrs.  Dainty. 

"  Time,  I  fear,  will  tell  you  a  different  story,"  said 
the  doctor,  as  he  arose  to  depart.  "  For  the  present 
let  me  enjoin  upon  you  to  keep  this  child  as  free  as 
possible  from  all  disturbing  causes." 

Mrs.  Dainty  made  no  answer,  and  the  doctor, 
bowing  almost  formally,  bade  her  good-morning. 


12* 


138         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

PAINFUL  CONSEQUENCES. 

"MADELINE." 

Mrs.  Dainty  looked  up,  a  slight  expression  of 
annoyance  coming  into  her  face :  Uncle  John  stood 
before  her. 

"  Well?  What  is  it?"  She  did  not  speak  with 
an  air  of  encouragement;  nor  did  she  by  look  or 
motion  give  the  old  gentleman  an  invitation  to  sit 
down.  He  had  entered  the  library,  where  she  waa 
reading. 

"  I  want  to  have  a  talk  with  you  about  the  chil 
dren,"  said  Mr.  Fleetwood.  He  was  altogether  self- 
possessed,  and  his  tone  and  manner  were  earnest. 

A  deeper  shade  of  annoyance  passed  over  the 
countenance  of  Mrs.  Dainty. 

"You  still  purpose  having  a  governess?" 

"I  don't  know  that  I  purpose  any  thing,"  replied 
Mrs.  Dainty.  "I've  had  such  wretched  luck,  so  far, 
with  governesses,  that  I  shall  hardly  feel  safe  in 
trying  another." 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         139 


"Why  not  recall  Miss  Harper?"  said  Mr.  Fleet- 
wood. 

"  Uncle  John  !"  Mrs.  Dainty  turned  upon  the  old 
gentleman  a  look  of  indignant  surprise. 

" The  children  are  all  attached  to  her;  and  she  is 
pure-minded,  true-hearted,  and " 

"  She's  insolent  and  upstart !"  retorted  Mrs. 
Dainty,  with  passion;  "and  I  will  never  have  her 
back  in  her  old  place." 

"  You  have  altogether  misapprehended  Florence," 
urged  Mr.  Fleetwood,  with  unusual  earnestness  of 
manner. 

"I  am  not  apt  to  misapprehend  people,"  said  Mrs. 
Dainty,  drawing  her  head  up  a  little  proudly. 

"  Have  you  noticed  Madeline  particularly,  during 
the  last  few  days?"  inquired  Mr.  Fleetwood,  after  a 
pause. 

"Particularly?  How?"  Mrs.  Dainty  looked 
curiously  at  the  old  gentleman. 

"  Do  you  see  no  change  in  her  since  that  remark 
able  experience  with  Mrs.  Jeckyl?" 

"No,"  was  answered,  without  hesitation. 

"I  have." 

"Indeed!  you  are  sharp-sighted,  Uncle  John!" 
Mrs.  Dainty  spoke  lightly. 

"Love  is  always  sharp-sighted  when  danger  is 
about,"  was  sententiously  answered. 


140        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"You  are  fanciful." 

"  No,  Madeline  !"  The  countenance  of  Mr.  Fleet- 
wood  became  still  more  serious.  "No,  Madeline; 
I  am  not  a  dealer  in  light  fancies,  but  a  man  of 
sober  thoughts  and  direct  purposes,  as  you  have 
reason  to  know.  There  is  a  change  in  our  little 
pet,  and  one  boding,  I  fear,  unhappy  consequences, 
unless  she  is  at  once  surrounded  by  counteracting 
influences.  The  spirit  of  that  bad  woman,  in  over 
shadowing  her,  left  something  of  its  darkness  on 
her  young  spirit." 

Mrs.  Dainty  sighed  unconsciously. 

"  What  is  the  change  you  have  observed,  Uncle 
John?"  she  said,  her  repellant  manner  subsiding. 

"Do  you  remember  to  have  heard  her  merry 
laugh  ringing  through  the  house  as  of  old  ?" 

Mrs.  Dainty  thought  for  a  moment  or  two,  and 
then  replied, — 

"  I  do  not." 

"  Do  you  know  where  she  is  now  ?" 

"No." 

"  Come  with  me." 

The  old  gentleman  arose,  and  moved  toward  the 
library-door.  His  niece  followed  him,  with  a  look 
of  questioning  interest  on  her  countenance. 

"  Where  is  she  ?"    The  mother  spoke  in  a  whisper. 

"Step  softly,"  said  Mr.  Fleetwood. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        141 


From  the  library  they  went  noiselessly  up  to  the 
nursery. 

"  See !"  And  the  old  gentleman  directed  tho 
attention  of  his  niece  to  Madeline,  who  was  sitting 
there  alone,  her  back  to  the  door,  silent  and  motion 
less. 

"  She  is  reading,"  whispered  the  mother. 

Uncle  John  shook  his  head. 

"Madeline!"  Mrs. Dainty  could  not  repress  the 
impulse  to  speak. 

The  child  started  up  and  turned  with  something 
of  a  frightened  look  toward  the  door. 

"What  are  you  doing  here  all  alone?"  asked 
Mrs.  Dainty. 

"Nothing,"  answered  the  child,  looking  confused. 

"Nothing?" 

"No,  ma'am." 

"How  long  have  you  been  here  alone  ?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"  Come  down  with  me  to  the  library." 

"I'd  rather  stay  here,"  replied  Madeline. 

"And  I'd  rather  have  you  in  the  library,"  said 
Mrs.  Dainty,  with  an  air  of  impatience. 

"I  wasn't  doing  any  thing,"  urged  Madeline. 

"I  didn't  say  that  you  were.  But  that  doesn't 
signify.  Come  down  into  the  library." 

"  I  don't  want  to  go  down  into  the  library." 


142        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"  Come !    Do  you  hear  me  ?" 

But  Madeline  stirred  not. 

Mrs.  Dainty  was  about  starting  forward  to  grasp 
the  child's  arm  and  constrain  obedience,  when  Uncle 
John  held  her  back,  whispering, — 

"  Patience !  patience  !  Remember  that  you  are 
now  dealing  with  a  diseased  mind  instead  of  a 
healthy  one.  There  is  something  wrong  about  the 
child,  and,  if  you  love  her,  be  prudent." 

"You  deal  in  riddles,"  said  Mrs.  Dainty,  yielding 
to  the  constraining  force  of  Uncle  John.  "Dis 
obedience,  it  strikes  me,  is  a  disease  that  should  be 
dealt  with  promptly."  She  spoke  in  a  whisper. 

"  Madeline !"  There  was  a  winning  tenderness 
in  the  old  man's  voice  that  found  its  way  to  the 
child's  heart,  for  she  moved  toward  Uncle  John  and 
grasped  his  outstretched  hand.  The  moment  she 
felt  its  warm  pressure,  she  shrunk  close  to  his  side, 
while  a  pleasant  change  in  her  young  face  revealed 
the  change  which  had  come  over  her  spirit. 

"I  want  you  in  the  library,"  said  Mrs.  Dainty, 
firmly.  She  did  not  think  it  right  to  let  the  child 
have  her  own  way. 

"Come,"  Uncle  John  spoke,  cheerfully;  and 
moving  away,  Madeline  followed  without  resistance. 

But  Mrs.  Dainty  failed  altogether  in  awakening 
an  interest  in  the  child's  mind.  Uncle  John,  think- 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         148 


ing  it  best  to  leave  them  alone  for  a  time,  withdrew 
from  the  library.  The  mother,  on  whose  mind  a 
pressure  of  concern  had  fallen,  took  down  a  large 
volume  of  natural  history,  filled  with  costly  engrav 
ings,  and,  opening  it  on  a  table,  drew  Madeline's 
attention  to  the  pictures. 

"  Isn't  this  beautiful  ?"  she  said,  pausing  over  a 
group  of  exquisitely-colored  birds. 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  replied  the  child,  in  a  tone  that 
betrayed  an  entire  lack  of  interest. 

"  Humming-birds  !  Oh,  how  beautiful !"  The 
tones  of  Mrs.  Dainty's  voice  were  animated.  "  This 
one  with  golden  wings  and  emerald-green  bosom  is 
like  the  darling  wee  bird  we  saw  this  spring,  flutter 
ing  among  the  honeysuckle-leaves  in  the  garden. 
Isn't  it  sweet?" 

"Yes,  ma'am." 

There  was  not  a  ripple  of  interest  in  Madeline's 
voice. 

"  Don't  you  like  birds  ?"  inquired  the  disappointed 
mother. 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

"  Here  are  two  beautiful  doves.  How  lifelike ! 
It  seems  every  moment  as  if  they  would  fly  away ! 
A'n't  they  lovely,  dear  ?" 

"Yes,  ma'am." 

Mrs.  Dainty  bent  down  and  looked  into  the  child's 


144        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


face.  Her  eyes  were  not  on  the  book,  but  cast 
dreamily  to  the  floor,  and  there  was  in  her  counte 
nance  a  sad  expression. 

"  Madeline !"  Mrs.  Dainty  spoke  with  a  sudden 
ness  that  caused  her  child  to  start  and  the  varying 
color  to  dance  over  her  face. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  this?  I  don't  under 
stand  you  !"  Mrs.  Dainty's  mind  was  growing  con 
fused  through  impatience. 

For  an  instant  Madeline  looked  frightened,  and 
then  burst  into  tears. 

""What  are  you  crying  about,  silly  child?  What 
ails  you  ?" 

Madeline  answered  nothing,  but  wept  more  vio 
lently. 

"Are  you  sick?" 

"  No,  ma'am,"  sobbed  the  unhappy  child. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you,  then?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"  Crying  like  a  baby,  and  don't  know  for  what  ? 
Shame  on  you !" 

Madeline  moved  away  from  her  mother's  side, 
as  if  a  hand  had  been  suddenly  pressed  against 
her. 

"  Come,  now !  There's  been  enough  of  this ! 
Dry  up  your  tears  at  once,  and  be  a  good  girl ! 
Here !  Let  me  wipe  them  all  away." 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        145 


And  she  caught  Madeline  with  one  hand,  while 

with  the  other  she  held  a  handkerchief  to  her  eyes. 

But  the  fountain  of  tears  was  not  so  easily  dried  up. 

Madeline  wept   on,  sobbing  in  a  wild,  convulsed 

nanner. 

"  I'm  out  of  all  patience !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Dainty. 
Her  mind,  instead  of  getting  clearer,  was  becoming 
more  and  more  clouded  by  passion.  "  If  you  don't 
stop  this  crying  for  nothing,  I'll  punish  you ! 
Hush,  I  say !" 

There  was  an  instant  of  strong  agitation,  as  if 
the  will  of  the  child  were  contending  vigorously 
with  an  almost  overpowering  flood  of  emotion ;  and 
then  all  was  still  as  death.  Madeline  stood  motion 
less,  and  silent  as  a  statue. 

"Very  well,"  said  Mrs.  Dainty,  coldly;  "I'm  glad 
to  see  that  you  can  obey  if  you  will,  and  I  look  to 
having  no  more  annoyances  of  this  kind.  Go  and 
sit  down,  or  amuse  yourself  in  some  way." 

But  Madeline  did  not  stir. 

"Do  you  hear  me  ?"    Mrs.  Dainty  spoke  sharply 

Still  the  child  stood  motionless. 

"Madeline!" 

"No  response. 

"  Don't  trifle  with  me,  child  !" 

The  stern,  threatening  voice  uttered  its  injunction 
in  vain. 

K  13 


146         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"Madeline!  Answer  me,  or  I  will  punish  you 
severely." 

The  mother  had  raised  her  hand  to  strike  a  blow, 
when  Mr.  Fleetwood,  who  remained  near  the  library- 
door,  came  in  hastily,  and  with  a  look  and  gesture 
warned  her  against  that  extremity. 

"Uncle  John!"  exclaimed  the   excited  woman, 
losing  all  patience,  "  I  wish  you  would  mind  your  " 
own  business,  and  not  interfere  with  me.     You  only 
encourage  this  self-willed  child  in  her  spirit  of  dis 
obedience!" 

And  before  Mr.  Fleetwood  had  time  to  reply  she 
caught  Madeline  by  the  arm,  and  dragged  her  from 
the  library,  and  through  the  passages  to  her  own 
apartment,  the  door  of  which  she  closed  and  locked. 

"You'll  find  that  I'm  in  earnest!"  she  exclaimed, 
in  a  husky  but  determined  voice,  as  she  hurried 
Madeline  across  the  room.  Seating  herself,  she 
drew  the  child  close  in  front  of  her,  and,  looking 
steadily  into  her  face,  said, — 

"  Speak!     What  do  you  mean  by  this  conduct?" 

The  aspect  of  Madeline's  face,  as  it  now  appeared 
in  the  eyes  of  Mrs.  Dainty,  was  so  strange  that 
alarm  took  the  place  of  anger.  All  life  seemed  to 
have  receded  therefrom.  The  blue  lips  stood  apart, 
the  eyes  were  wide  open,  almost  staring,  the  skin 
was  of  an  ashen  hue.  Lifting  her  quickly  from  the 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        147 


floor,  the  mother  laid  her  child  upon  a  bed,  and, 
after  bending  over  her  a  few  moments  anxiously, 
went  to  the  door  and  called  Mr.  Fleetwood. 

"I  warned  you,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  in  a 
reproving  voice,  as  he  saw  the  child's  condition.  "  I 
told  you  that  you  were  dealing  with  a  diseased 
mind!" 

"What  can  ail  her?  Oh,  Uncle  John,  send  at 
once  for  the  doctor !"  Mrs.  Dainty  wrung  her  hands, 
and  stood  glancing  from  Madeline  to  Mr.  Fleet- 
wood,  her  countenance  pale  with  fear. 

The  old  gentleman  bent  down  over  the  child, 
laying  his  hand  upon  her  forehead  and  breast,  and 
then  searching  along  her  wrists  with  his  fingers. 
Her  flesh  was  cold,  and  damp  with  perspiration, 
and  there  was  so  feeble  a  motion  in  the  heart  that 
scarcely  a  wave  of  life  could  be  felt  along  the 
arteries. 

"  Oh,  send  for  the  doctor !  She  may  die  !"  Mrs. 
Dainty  was  overwhelmed  with  distress. 

"Be  patient.  Control  yourself,  Madeline."  Uncle 
John  spoke  with  unusual  calmness.  "Get  cold 
water  and  bathe  her  forehead  and  temples." 

This  was  done,  and  signs  of  more  active  lifft  fol 
lowed.  A  warmer  color  returned  to  her  chepks; 
respiration  became  deeper;  the  half-opened 


148        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


closed,  giving  the  look  of  sleep,  instead  of  death,  to 
her  childish  face. 

"  "What  is  the  meaning  of  this  ?  "What  has  come 
over  the  child  ?"  said  Mrs.  Dainty,  breathing  more 
freely  as  she  saw  that  a  new  and  healthier  action 
had  supervened:  "I  don't  understand  it,  Uncle 
John." 

"There  is  disease  of  the  mind,  Madeline,  as  I 
have  been  trying  for  the  last  hour  to  make  you 
understand.  Its  exact  nature  cannot  at  once  be 
determined.  Neither  anger  nor  force  will  avail  any 
thing :  of  that  be  fully  assured." 

"  But,  Uncle  John,  she  must  not  be  permitted  to 
have  her  own  will  entirely.  That  leads  to  ruin." 

"  Of  course  not.  The  government  of  love,  wise 
and  gentle  in  all  its  ministrations, — not  the  govern 
ment  of  angry  force, — must  have  rule.  See  into 
what  a  mental  paralysis  your  efforts  to  compel  sub 
mission  have  thrown  her.  If  her  mind's  condition 
had  been  a  healthy  one,  this  would  never  have 
occurred.  Deal  with  her,  then,  wisely  and  gently, 
as  you  would  deal  with  the  sick." 

Mrs.  Dainty  sighed  deeply,  and  looked  troubled. 

"What  does  it  mean,  Uncle  Jo.hn?  What  is  the 
cause  of  this  strange  affection?" 

"  It  was  not  so  before  Mrs.  Jeckyl  came  into  the 
house. " 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        149 


Mrs.  Dainty  gave  an  unwilling  assent. 

"  Something  has  been  done  to  her  by  that  woman. 
If  I  were  a  believer  in  witchcraft  I  would  say  that 
she  had  laid  a  spell  upon  the  child ;  that  Madeline 
was  under  the  influence  of  an  evil  eye." 

"There  is  something  wrong,"  murmured  Mrs. 
Dainty,  speaking  partly  to  herself, — "  something 
wrong!  I  wish  I  had  never  seen  that  dreadful 
woman."  A  low  shudder  pervaded  her  nerves. 

"Yes,  something  very  wrong,"  said  Mr.  Fleet- 
wood;  "and  it  will  require  the  wisest  care  on  our 
part  to  restore  the  harmonious  action  of  her  life,  so 
suddenly  and  so  strangely  disturbed." 

For  nearly  two  hours  Madeline  lay  in  a  deep 
sleep;  and  during  all  that  time  Mrs.  Dainty  sat  by 
the  bedside.  "When  she  awoke  at  last,  her  mind 
was  in  a  tranquil  state,  like  one  coming  out  of  a 
refreshing  slumber.  But  she  exhibited  none  of  her 
old  lightness  of  spirit, — was  quiet,  yet  cheerful, 
rather  than  of  pensive  mood.  She  did  not  seem 
inclined  to  join,  as  of  old,  her  little  brother  George, 
Master  "  Don't  Care,"  in  any  of  his  sports,  but 
rather  shrunk  away  into  unobserved  places,  sitting 
quiet  and  idle. 

13* 


150        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

ALARMING   OCCURRENCE. 

TIME  made  very  little  change  in  Madeline's  state; 
no  change,  at  least,  for  the  better.  Twice  during 
the  succeeding  fortnight  her  mother's  anger  was 
excited  against  her,  and  the  strong,  passionate  will 
of  the  one  set  itself  vigorously  to  work  to  subdue 
the  so-called  "  wilfulness"  of  the  other.  But  each 
time  the  storm,  like  all  storms,  made  itself  felt  only 
in  wreck  and  ruin.  Madeline,  after  the  exhaustion 
of  the  wild  strife  of  passion  was  over,  showed  a 
moody,  absent  exterior,  and  an  increased  tendency 
to  be  alone. 

"What  can  ail  the  child?"  Mrs.  Dainty  would 
say,  in  her  uneasiness  and  perplexity,  now  appealing 
to  her  husband,  and  now  to  Uncle  John.  But  from 
neither  could  any  solution  of  the  mystery  of  her 
strange  state  be  derived.  The  family  physician  was 
called  in  and  consulted,  though  with  little  satisfac 
tion.  "  There  must  be  a  change  for  Madeline,"  he 
said.  "Her  mind  must  be  diverted.  She  is  in  a 
morbid  state;"  with  much  more  to  the  same  pur- 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        151 


pose.  Yet  nothing  was  gained.  The  mental  dis 
ease  abated  not,  but  commenced  assuming  new 
forms.  Morbid  desire  began  taking  the  place  of 
morbid  indifference ;  and,  if  this  inordinate  craving 
were  not  indulged,  fits  of  nervous  prostration  fol 
lowed  the  excitement  of  contention,  resembling  the 
stupor  of  opium. 

It  now  became  a  matter  of  serious  consideration 
in  the  family  as  to  how  Madeline  was  to  be  treated 
by  the  other  members.  Suddenly  her  will  had 
grown  exacting.  The  mild-tempered,  gentle,  loving 
little  girl  had  become  imperious,  selfish,  and  de 
manding.  If  she  desired  a  thing,  or  wished  for  an 
indulgence,  no  amount  of  opposition  subdued  her. 
Denial,  argument,  punishment,  increased  instead  of 
weakening  her  purpose,  and  the  certain  result  was 
a  nervous  spasm,  or  deep  stupor,  lasting  at  times 
for  hours.  So  long  as  she  had  her  own  way,  the 
current  of  her  life  glided  along  smoothly ;  but 
any  obstruction  swelled  it  into  a  turbulent  flood, 
the  dark  depths  of  which  were  hidden  from  all 
eyes. 

The  doctor  strongly  recommended  change  of 
place,  new  associations.  "  Send  her  out  in  the  car 
riage  every  day,  or  take  her  to  the  public  squares 
for  a  ramble  among  the  children,"  he  would  urge, 
when  he  saw  her  moving  in  her  quiet  way  about  the 


152         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


house,  and  marked  the  singular  expression  of  her 
countenance,  that  had  in  it  something  almost 
weird. 

One  day  Agnes,  the  elder  sister,  accompanied  by 
George,  had  taken  Madeline  to  the  City  Square 
through  which  they  wandered  for  some  time.  Grow 
ing  tired,  the  girls  sat  down  to  observe  a  party  of 
little  children  who  were  jumping  the  rope,  while 
George,  boy-like,  took  a  wide  range  over  the 
grounds.  Suddenly  the  attention  of  Agnes  was 
called  to  Madeline  by  an  exclamation,  and,  looking 
around  and  into  her  face,  she  saw  that  her  eyes  were 
fixed  on  some  object  with  a  look  of  fear.  Follow 
ing  their  direction,  she  saw  at  a  short  distance  the 
repulsive  form  of  Mrs.  Jeckyl,  who  was  standing 
perfectly  still,  gazing  at  them.  Her  first  instinctiva 
movement  was  to  shade  the  eyes  of  Madeline  with 
her  hand  and  thus  hide  from  her  the  form  which 
had  disturbed  her  with  its  presence.  As  she  did  so, 
Madeline  shut  her  eyes  and  leaned  her  head  back 
against  her  sister. 

As  soon  as  Mrs.  Jeckyl  saw  that  she  was  observed, 
she  came  forward,  offering  her  hand  to  Agnes  in  a 
familiar  way,  and  inquiring  with  an  affectation  of 
interest  about  the  family. 

"Ah,"  she  continued,  "and  here  is  my  little  pet, 
Maddy!"  placing  her  hand,  as  she  spoke,  on  the 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        153 


nead  of  Madeline,  whose  slight  form  quivered  and 
shrunk  at  the  touch. 

"How  are  you,  dear?"  she  asked,  in  tones  meant 
to  be  winning. 

But  Madeline  kept  her  face  buried  in  her  sister's 
garments. 

"That  little  rebel  brother  tried  to  frighten  my 
pet,"  she  added,  her  hand  still  playing  with  the 
child's  curls, — "  the  naughty  boy  !  But  Maddy  was 
my  jewel !  Little  darling !  Come !  Look  up,  and 
let  me  see,  if  only  for  a  moment,  that  pair  of  bright 
eyes." 

Agnes  felt  the  head  of  Madeline  slowly  turning, 
as  if  she  wished  to  get  a  stealthy  glance  at  the 
woman's  face. 

"Ah!  Peep-bo!  Peep!"  said  Mrs.  Jeckyl,  play 
fully.  "  I  thought  the  light  would  come." 

Madeline  had  taken  a  single  look,  and  then  hid 
den  her  face  again. 

"  How  have  you  been,  darling  ?"  Mrs.  Jeckyl 
bent  her  head  close  down  to  the  face  of  Made 
line. 

The  child  made  no  answer. 

Still  the  woman's  hand  was  on  her  head,  and 
restlessly  moving  among  the  sunny  curls.  Twice 
had  Agnes  pushed  it  away  with  a  firm  effort ;  but  it 
returned  again  persistently.  She  had  a  strange,  be- 


154        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


wildered  feeling,  and  an  impulse  to  catch  Madelvne 
in  her  arms  and  flee  away,  as  from  impending 
danger. 

"Ah!    Peep-bo!"   Madeline  had  stolen  another 

ook,  and  the  woman,  watchful  as  a  serpent,  had 

caught  the  glance ;  and  now  her  eye  held  that  of 

the  child,  who  did  not  again  turn  her  face  away,  but 

continued  to  gaze  upon  that  of  Mrs.  Jeckyl. 

"You  are  a  little  darling!"  said  Mrs.  Jeckyl, 
now  bending  close  to  Madeline,  and  smiling  upon 
her  in  her  most  winning  manner.  "  The  sweetest 
pet  in  all  the  world!  Here,  sit  on  my  lap."  And 
she  made  an  attempt  to  lift  Madeline  from  the  arm 
of  her  sister ;  but  Agnes  resisted,  saying,  coldly, — 

"  If  you  please,  madam,  let  her  remain  where 
she  is." 

But  the  woman  was  bent  on  having  her  own  way. 
Not  seeming  even  to  hear  the  words  of  Agnes,  she 
applied  her  strength,  and  drew  the  child  upon  her 
lap.  A  deep  fluttering  sigh  came  up  from  the 
heart  of  Madeline,  and  light  spasms  quivered  over 
her  face.  There  was  a  brief,  feeble  resistance ;  then 
strength  and  will  were  subdued,  and,  passive  as  a 
babe,  she  shrunk  against  the  woman,  laying  her 
head  down  upon  her  bosom. 

Roused  by  fear  and  indignation,  Agnes  started 
to  her  feet,  and,  grasping  her  sister  by  the  arms, 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         155 


said,  as  she  exerted  her  strength  in  the  effort  to 
remove  her, — 

"Let  her  go,  Mrs.  Jeckyl !" 

"Don't  fret  yourself,  my  dear,"  said  the  woman, 
fixing  her  glittering  eyes  into  those  of  Agnes,  with 
a  look  meant  to  subdue  her  also.  But  the  effort  to 
hold  her  passive  by  the  strength  of  a  powerful  will 
failed  wholly. 

"Release  my  sister!"  she  added,  sternly. 

But  Mrs.  Jeckyl  drew  her  arm  the  more  tightly 
around  Madeline,  and  with  her  steady  eye  sought  to 
throw  a  spell  over  Agnes. 

Grown  desperate  with  fear,  Agnes  now  exerted 
all  her  strength,  and  with  a  single  violent  jerk  suc 
ceeded  in  wresting  the  half-insensible  form  of  her 
sister  from  the  arms  of  Mrs.  Jeckyl. 

"  You're  a  polite  young  lady!"  said  Mrs.  Jeckyl, 
in  a  sneering  manner.  "This  is  American  good- 
breeding,  I  suppose !" 

"And  you're  a  wicked  woman,"  replied  Agnes, 
indignantly  confronting  the  enemy. 

"  Snakes !  Snakes  !"  It  was  the  ringing,  exultant 
voice  of  little  "don't-care"  George,  who  had  circled 
the  square  in  a  trot,  and  just  returned  to  the  place 
where  he  had  left  his  sisters. 

Mrs.  Jeckyl  turned  with  a  start  upon  this  unw^l- 
come  intruder. 


156        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"  Old  Snakes !"  said  the  boy,  stooping  before  the 
woman,  with  his  hands  upon  his  knees,  and  a  grin 
of  exultation  on  his  face.  "Old  Snakes !" 

Fierce  as  a  tiger  did  she  advance  upon  George; 
but  she  had  an  antagonist  to  deal  with  who  was  an 
over-match  for  her. 

"  Take  care !"  exclaimed  the  boy,  as  he  darted 
around  a  lady  who  was  passing,  thus  putting  her 
between  him  and  Mrs.  Jeckyl ;  "  take  care,  ma'am : 
that's  Old  Snakes !" 

The  lady  started,  and  looked  half  frightened. 

"  Take  care!"  repeated  Young  America.  "  She's 
got  a  snake  in  her  bosom  !  There  !  don't  you  see 
its  head  peeping  out  ?" 

"Mercy!"  exclaimed  the  lady,  springing  away 
from  Mrs.  Jeckyl,  who,  in  trying  to  catch  George, 
ran  against  her. 

"  Snakes !  Snakes !  Old  Snakes  !"  screamed  the 
little  rebel,  dancing  with  delight,  and  soon  attract 
ing  a  crowd  of  men,  women,  and  children  to  the 
spot. 

"Where  are  the  snakes?"  asked  one  and  an 
other. 

"  There  she  goes  !  Don't  you  see  her  ?  That  is 
Old  Snakes !"  answered  the  laughing  boy,  pointing 
to  Mrs.  Jeckyl,  who,  a  second  time  discomfited  by 
weapons  for  which  she  had  neither  shield  nor  armor, 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         157 


was  acting  on  the  principle  that  discretion  was  the 
better  part  of  valor,  and  making  a  hasty  retreat 
from  the  battle-field. 

"You're  a  very  rude  little  boy,"  said  a  grave  old 
gentleman. 

"And  she's  a  very  wicked  woman,"  answered  little 
Don't  Care,  looking  boldly  up  into  the  speaker's 
face. 

""Why  did  you  call  her  Snakes?"  inquired  the 
man :  "  there's  no  sense  in  that." 

"  If  you'd  looked  into  her  eyes,  you'd  have  seen 
them,"  replied  George,  half  carelessly;  and  then, 
grasping  the  outstretched  hand  of  his  sister  Agnes, 
he  withdrew  from  the  little  crowd,  and  passed  with 
quick  steps  homeward. 


14 


158         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

DISAPPEARANCE   OF   MADELINE. 

THE  danger  which  threatened  Madeline  had  sud 
denly  taken  on  a  new  and  more  alarming  aspect. 
With  the  removal  of  Mrs.  Jeckyl  from  the  house  of 
Mr.  Dainty,  it  was  believed  that  all  direct  influence 
had  ceased,  and  that  whatever  of  evil  she  had 
wrought  upon  the  child  would  gradually  lose  its 
power  over  her  as  time  progressed.  But  the  enemy 
had  not  left  the  field ;  there  was  only  a  change  of 
position. 

The  detail  by  Agnes,  in  an  excited  manner,  of 
what  had  occurred  in  the  City  Square,  sent  through 
all  hearts  a  thrill  of  fear  In  the  family  council, 
Mr.  Dainty  talked  indignantly  of  the  police  and 
arrest,  while  Mr.  Fleetwood,  for  the  most  part 
silent,  walked  the  floor  with  uneasy  footsteps. 

"  I  shall  not  dare  to  let  Madeline  pass  our  own 
threshold,"  said  Mrs.  Dainty,  in  a  troubled  voice, 
"  though  she  is  dying  for  change  of  air  and  change 
of  scene  Oh,  isn't  it  dreadful !" 

"The  woman  must  be  arrested  "  Mr.  Dainty  an- 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         159 


nounced,  for  the  tenth  time, — the  only  remedy  he 
had  to  suggest. 

"What  good?"  inquired  Uncle  John. 

"  We  will  have  her  bound  over  to  keep  the  peace," 
said  Mr.  Dainty. 

Uncle  John  shook  his  head  as  he  answered, 
"  You  cannot  hind  the  influence  of  her  evil  eye.  It 
may  fall  upon  our  precious  one  at  any  moment  least 
expected,  and  in  spite  of  all  law  or  police.  The 
danger  comes  from  a  new  direction,  and  is  too 
subtle  in  its  nature  to  be  restrained  by  common 
bonds." 

"What  then  are  we  to  do?"  asked  Mrs.  Dainty, 
wringing  her  hands  in  a  distressed  manner. 

But  no  one  ventured  a  reply  to  her  question. 

After  a  long  and  troubled  session,  the  family 
council  broke  up,  without  having  arrived  at  any 
satisfactory  result  beyond  the  common  conclusion 
that  it  would  not  be  safe  to  let  Madeline,  in  her 
present  state,  go  out,  and  thus  be  in  danger  of  meet 
ing  the  strange  woman  who  had  thrown  so  fearful  a 
spell  over  her  young  spirit. 

Singularly  enough,  the  child,  from  this  time, 
showed  a  restless  desire  to  get  away  from  the  house. 
Instead  of  creeping  into  lonely  rooms  by  herself, 
she  would  seek  the  front  windows  and  door,  and 
stand  gazing  into  the  street,  her  eyes  wandering  up 


160        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


and  down  among  the  passengers,  as  if  in  search  of 
some  one.  When  taken  from  the  door  or  windows, 
she  would  resist,  and  sometimes  fall  into  passionate 
fits,  that  left  her  in  a  strange  stupor.  Three  times 
within  a  week  she  attempted  to  steal  away;  and 
jnce  she  succeeded  in  getting  off',  but  was  met  by 
her  father,  who  happened  to  be  returning  home, 
when  only  a  few  blocks  distant.  To  his  inquiries 
as  to  where  she  was  going,  she  replied,  "  To  the 
Square."  After  a  slight  opposition,  she  concluded 
to  go  back  with  him,  but  was  moody  and  ill-natured 
for  the  rest  of  the  day. 

So  it  continued  for  weeks,  with  but  little  change 
for  the  better.  Mrs.  Dainty's  fears  were  all  the 
while  excited,  and  she  never  felt  comfortable  a 
moment  when  Madeline  was  away  from  her. 

One  day,  in  taking  her  usual  after-dinner  sleep, 
Mrs.  Dainty  was  visited  by  a  frightful  dream  about 
Madeline,  so  vivid  in  its  character  as  to  awaken  her. 
Her  first  impulse,  the  moment  bewildered  thoughts 
ran  clear,  was  to  seek  for  her  child.  "  Madeline !" 
she  called,  going  to  her  chamber-door.  For  a  mo 
ment  or  two  she  stood  listening,  then  called,  in  a 
louder  voice,  "  Madeline !  Madeline !" 

"Madeline!"  It  was  the  voice  of  the  oldest 
daughter,  calling  from  the  library. 

"Agnes,  where  is  Madeline?" 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         161 


"I  do  not  know,"  replied  Agnes,  coming  toward 
her  mother.  "  I  heard  her  and  George  up  in  the 
nursery  not  long  ago.  Perhaps  she  is  there, 
George !" 

A  pair  of  rapid  feet  responded  noisily  to  the 
call. 

"George,  where  is  your  sister?" 

"  Don't  know,"  answered  the  boy. 

"Isn't  she  in  the  nursery?" 

"No,  ma'am." 

"I  heard  you  and  her  talking  there  not  long 
ago,"  said  Agnes. 

"  She  went  down-stairs  for  a  piece  of  cake  a  good 
while  ago." 

Agnes  almost  flew  down  to  the  kitchen,  and  in 
quired  of  the  chambermaid,  whom  she  found  there, 
if  she  had  seen  Madeline. 

"  I  heard  her  come  down-stairs  a  little  while  ago, 
and  I  think  she  went  into  the  parlor,"  replied  the 
chambermaid. 

One  of  the  parlor-shutters  was  found  pushed  open, 
the  curtain  drawn  aside,  and  a  chair  out  of  posi 
tion. 

"  She  has  been  here,"  said  Mrs.  Dainty,  in  a 
choking  whisper. 

"Perhaps  she  has  fallen  asleep  somewhere,"  sug 
gested  a  domestic. 

L  14* 


162        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"  Search  through  the  house,  everywhere  !"  replied 
Mrs.  Dainty.  "Look  into  all  the  rooms  and  closets ! 
How  could  you  lose  sight  of  her  ?" 

But  they  searched  in  vain.  The  child  was  not  in 
the  house ! 

""Where  is  Uncle  John?"  asked  Mrs.  Dainty,  in 
her  terror  and  bewilderment. 

Mr.  Fleetwood  entered  from  the  street  at  the 
moment  his  name  was  mentioned,  and  in  no  way 
lessened  the  anxious  fears  of  his  niece  by  his 
troubled  exclamations  on  learning  that  Madeline 
was  nowhere  to  be  found  in  the  house. 

"  I  have  trembled  every  day  in  fear  of  this  !"  said 
the  old  man,  pacing  the  floor  in  great  agitation, 
"How  could  you  leave  her  unguarded?" 

Not  long,  however,  did  Mr.  Fleetwood  remain 
inactive.  After  sending  word  to  Mr.  Dainty,  and 
despatching  servants  in  various  directions  to  search 
through  all  the  neighborhood,  he  went  out  himself, 
and  commenced  a  series  of  close  inquiries  at  all  the 
stores  and  offices  within  several  squares. 

"Had  she  curly  hair?"  inquired  a  boy  who  was 
buying  something  at  one  of  the  stores  visited  by 
Mr.  Fleetwood. 

"Yes,"  answered  the  old  gentleman,  with  a  sud 
den  eagerness  of  manner. 

"And  wore  a  blue  frock?" 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        163 


"Yes." 

"Was  bare-headed?" 

"Yes." 

"I  saw  her  going  down  the  street  a  good  while 
ago.  An  old  woman,  dressed  in  black,  had  her." 

u  Going  down  the  street !  Where  ?"  asked  Mr 
Fleetwood,  with  increasing  excitement. 

"By  our  house,"  replied  the  boy. 

"  Where  is  your  house  ?"  demanded  the  old  gentle 
man,  in  a  voice  that  startled  not  only  the  lad,  but 
all  the  other  inmates  of  the  store. 

"Round  in  Eager  Street." 

"Which  way  did  you  say  they  were  going?" 

"Toward  Fifth  Street." 

"  I'll  give  you  ten  dollars  if  you'll  find  them !" 
said  Mr.  Fleetwood. 

"Will  you?"  And  the  lad  dropped  his  package 
on  the  counter  and  started  for  the  door. 

"Ten  dollars?"     He  paused  for  reassurance. 

"Yes, — ten  gold  dollars.  Now  move  on  their 
track  like  lightning !  But  stay !  You  are  to  report 
yourself  at  my  house,  the  number  of  which  is  on 
this  card.  Let  us  hear  from  you  speedily.  Now, 
away !" 

The  boy  disappeared  from  the  door  and  went 
flying  down  the  street. 

Still  pursuing  his  inquiries,  Mr.  Fleetwood  met 


164        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


with  others  who  confirmed  the  boy's  statement  that 
a  child,  resembling  Madeline,  had  been  seen  in 
company  with  an  old  woman  dressed  in  black. 
This  caused  him  to  visit  the  Chief  of  Police  and 
ecure  his  efficient  aid  in  the  matter,  thus  putting  in 
operation  the  most  vigilant  means  of  discovery. 

It  was  nearly  an  hour  after  Mr.  Fleetwood  left 
the  house,  when,  disappointed  in  any  good  result, 
he  returned  to  the  anxious,  frightened  family,  to 
meet  pale,  tearful  faces  and  trembling  inquiry.  Mr. 
Dainty  and  the  servants  had  also  been  in  search  of 
the  lost  one,  but  their  search  had  proved  quite  as 
fruitless.  The  boy  who  had  hoped  to  gain  the 
reward  of  ten  dollars  had  likewise  reported  himself. 
He  had  spent  an  hour  in  vain. 

Night  came  down  upon  the  fearfully-disturbed 
inmates  of  Mr.  Dainty's  family,  and  yet  Madeline 
was  absent.  Nothing  whatever  could  be  learned  in 
regard  to  her,  except  the  single  fact  mentioned  by 
the  boy,  and  confirmed  by  others,  that  a  little  girl 
resembling  her  had  been  seen  in  company  with  an 
old  woman  dressed  in  black. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        165 


CHAPTER  XYII. 

THE   SEARCH. 

"!T  is  nearly  a  week  since  Mr.  Fleetwood  was 
here,"  said  Mrs.  Elder,  as  she  placed  her  work- 
basket  on  the  table  and  drew  up  a  chair. 

Florence,  who  had  just  brought  in  a  lighted  lamp, 
sighed,  but  made  no  answer  to  the  remark. 

"  He  seemed  more  than  disappointed,  I  thought, 
at  your  persistent  refusal  to  make  any  advances 
toward  a  reconciliation  with  Mrs.  Dainty,"  added 
Mrs.  Elder. 

"Yes:  he  was  offended."  There  was  a  touch  of 
sadness  in  the  low  voice  of  Florence  Harper. 

"No,  not  offended,  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Elder,  quickly. 

"  That  is  too  strong  a  word.     He  was  disturbed."  \\ 

\"~ 
"  He  asks  of  me  too  much,  Aunt  Mary."  Florence 

spoke  with  some  warmth.     "I  am  but  human." 
"Perhaps  he  does.    But  the  condition  of  things 

at  Mrs.  Dainty's  must  be  his  excuse.     See  into  what 

a  state  of  mind  Madeline  has  fallen." 

"Poor  child!     I  cannot    sleep,   sometimes,   for 

thinking  of  her,"  said  Florence. 


166        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"I  can  hardly  wonder  at  Mr.  Fleetwood,  seeing 
that  his  heart  is  wrapped  up  in  those  children.  He 
has  seen  how  much  power  for  good  you  can  have 
over  them,  and,  now  that  an  evil  hand  is  at  work, 
seeking  to  mar  the  sweet  beauty  of  Madeline's 
spirit,  can  you  feel  surprise  at  his  eagerness  to  bring 
her  again  within  the  sphere  of  your  influence  ?  I 
cannot,  Florence." 

"  Then  you  think  I  ought  to  go  ?" 

Aunt  Mary  was  silent. 

"Mrs.  Dainty  has  not  desired  my  return." 

"  She  has  not  communicated  such  a  desire ;  but 
Mr.  Fleetwood  has  over  and  over  again  said  that 
only  weak  pride  keeps  her  from  doing  so.  Shall 
not  something  be  conceded  for  the  children's 
sake?" 

"If  you  think  I  ought  to  call  and  see  Mrs.  Dainty, 
as  Mr.  Fleetwood  proposes,  I  will  go  to-morrow," 
said  Florence. 
"*  Aunt  Mary  was  silent. 

"You  will  not  advise  me?"  Florence  spoke  in 
a  perplexed  voice. 

"If  you  act  from  my  advice,  you  will  not  act 
freely,"  said  Mrs.  Elder.  "The  question,  moreover, 
is  one  of  such  difficult  solution,  that  I  do  not  see  it 
clearly  enough  to  speak  with  decision." 

The  bell  at  this  moment  rung  violently,  causing 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        167 


both  Florence  and  her  aunt  to  start  and  look  with 
inquiring  eyes  into  each  other's  faces.  A  few 
moments  afterward  a  man's  feet  were  heard  moving 
quickly  along  the  passage. 

"  Mr.  Fleetwood !"  ejaculated  Mrs.  Elder,  rising 
as  the  old  gentleman  entered  hurriedly. 

"Florence,"  said  Mr.  Fleetwood,  in  an  agitated 
manner,  as  he  laid  his  hand  upon  the  arm  of  Miss 
Harper,  "  you  are  wanted !" 

"  For  what  ?  Has  any  thing  happened  to  the  chil 
dren  ?" 

"  Yes, — something  dreadful !  Madeline  is  lost  or 
stolen  !" 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Fleetwood !  Lost !  Stolen !  What  do 
you  mean  ?" 

"Madeline  has  been  gone  from  the  house  for 
several  hours,  and  we  have  searched  for  her  every 
where  in  vain.  Two  or  three  persons  in  the  neigh 
borhood  are  positive  that  they  saw  her,  or  a  child 
answering  in  all  things  her  description,  in  company 
with  a  woman  dressed  in  black.  That  infamous 
Mrs.  Jeckyl,  without  doubt!" 

"Dreadful !  Dreadful !"  exclaimed  Florence,  clasp 
ing  her  hands  and  turning  very  pale. 

"Ah,  Florence !  Florence  !"  said  Mr.  Fleetwood, 
"if  you  had  only  thrown  the  wings  of  your  love 
around  her,  this  would  not  have  been  !" 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


Florence  covered  her  face  with,  her  hands,  and  for 
some  moments  wept  bitterly.. 

"I  have  only  wished  to  do  right,"  she  said,  at 
length,  with  forced  composure.  "  More  has  been 
required  of  me  than  I  had  strength  to  perform.  But 
speak  now,  Mr.  Fleetwood :  I  am  ready  to  move  at 
your  bidding." 

"Poor  Agnes  is  almost  beside  herself.  A  little 
while  ago  she  said,  in  her  mother's  presence,  'Oh, 
if  Miss  Harper  were  only  here  !'  And  her  mother 
said,  in  reply,  'If  she  had  not  left  us,  this  could  not 
have  happened.'  The  way  is  plain  for  you,  dear 
child !  Come  with  me  !  Come !" 

The  old  man's  voice  was  pleading  and  tremulous. 
His  heart  was  overburdened. 

"This  moment,"  replied  Florence,  as  she  turned 
and  glided  from  the  room.  In  less  than  a  minute 
she  re-entered  the  little  parlor,  with  bonnet  and 
shawl,  ready  to  accompany  Mr.  Fleetwood.  She 
had  no  cause  to  complain  of  her  reception  at  Mrs. 
Dainty's.  Agnes,  the  moment  she  entered,  sprung 
forward  to  meet  her,  and,  laying  her  face  against  her 
bosom,  sobbed  violently.  Mrs.  Dainty  arose  with  a 
slight  assumption  of  dignity,  but  gave  her  hand 
with  far  more  warmth  of  manner  than  Mr.  Fleet- 
wood  had  hoped  for. 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you,  Miss  Harper,"  she  said,— 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        169 


"glad  for  the  sake  of  Agnes.  Oh,  we  are  in  dread 
ful  trouble  !  Poor  Madeline !  Uncle  John  has  told 
you  all.  Oh,  my  child  !  my  child !  "Where  can  she 
be?  It  will  kill  me!" 

And  Mrs.  Dainty  fell  into  a  fit  of  hysterica 
sobbing. 

"Have  you  no  further  intelligence  of  Madeline?" 
Mr.  Fleetwood  inquired  of  Mr.  Dainty. 

"None.  I  have  just  returned  from  the  Police- 
Office.  Not  a  word  of  the  child,  although  reports 
have  come  in  from  all  parts  of  the  city." 

"Where  did  Mrs.  Jeckyl  live  at  the  time  she 
came  here  ?"  asked  Florence.  None  could  answer 
the  question. 

"Is  there  no  one  of  whom  she  could  be  inquired 
about  ?" 

"  Mrs.  Ashton,  I  think,  knows  something  in  re 
gard  to  her,"  said  Mr.  Fleetwood. 

"  Has  any  one  been  to  see  her  ? "  inquired 
Florence. 

"  No  one.  We  should  have  thought  of  that  be 
fore,"  said  Mr.  Dainty.  "Who  knows  her  re 
sidence  ?" 

Mrs.  Dainty  gave  the  required  information,  and 
a  servant  was  despatched  immediately  with  a  note 
to  Mrs.  Ashton.  That  lady  could  not  say  where 
Mrs.  Jeckyl  lived,  but  thought  she  was  at  a  certain 

15 


170         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


boarding-house  in  Twelfth  Street.  Thither  Mr. 
Dainty  went  without  delay. 

"Does  a  Mrs.  Jeckyl  board  here?"  he  inquired 
of  the  waiter  who  came  to  the  door. 

"No,  sir,"  was  answered,  in  atone  plainly  enough 
conveying  the  information  that  the  woman  about 
whom  he  made  inquiry  was  known  to  the  ser 
vant. 

"When  did  she  leave  ?"  he  asked. 

"A  month  ago." 

"Where  can  I  find  her?" 

"Don't  know." 

"Where  did  she  go  when  she  left  your  house?" 

"Don't  know,  sir." 

The  waiter's  manner  showed  some  impatience,  as 
if  the  very  name  of  the  woman  were  an  offence  to 
him. 

"I  wish  to  see  Mrs.  Brainard.     Is  she  at  home  ?" 

"Yes,  sir.  Walk  into  the  parlor,  and  I  will  call 
her  down." 

Mr.  Dainty  went  into  the  parlor,  and  in  a  few 
moments  the  woman  who  kept  the  boarding-house 
entered. 

"You  had  a  Mrs.  Jeckyl  here  a  few  weeks  ago?" 
said  Mr.  Dainty. 

"I  had." 

"Do  you  know  where  she  is  now?" 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        171 


"No,  sir."  Mrs.  Brainard's  voice  had  in  it  some 
thing  of  impatience  and  something  of  disgust. 

"When  did  she  leave  your  house  ?" 

"Nearly  four  weeks  ago." 

"Where  did  she  go?" 

"  I  really  cannot  answer  the  question,  sir.  I  was 
so  glad  to  get  her  out  of  my  house  that  I  let  all  in 
terest  in  her  die  the  moment  she  was  beyond  my 
door." 

"Do  not  any  of  your  servants  know  where  she 
went?" 

"It  is  possible,  sir.  I  will  inquire  of  the  chamber 
maid." 

"If  you  please;  for  I  must  find  her,  alive  or 
dead !" 

"Is  there  any  thing  wrong  about  her?"  asked 
Mrs.  Brainard,  curiously. 

"I  am  afraid  she  has  stolen  my  child!"  said  Mr. 
Dainty,  his  manner  growing  excited. 

"Stolen  your  child  !"  Mrs.  Brainard  became  pale 
and  agitated,  and  her  eyes  turned  toward  a  little 
girl,  not  seven  years  old,  who  at  the  moment  entered 
the  room.  She  reached  out  her  hand,  and  the  child 
drew  to  her  side.  The  moment  Mrs.  Brainard's 
arm  could  be  thrown  around  the  little  one,  she 
clasped  her  eagerly,  as  if  she  felt  that  she  had  just 
escaped  impending  danger. 


172         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"If  you  can  aid  me  in  tracing  her,"  said  Mr. 
Dainty,  "you  will  confer  the  highest  benefit." 

Mrs.  Brainard  left  the  room,  and  returned  in  a 
little  while  with  the  chambermaid,  who  thought 
Mrs.  Jeckyl  went  to  a  house  in  Fifth  Street  near 
Noble.  The  name  of  the  person  who  kept  the 
house  she  did  not  remember.  This  was  all  the 
chambermaid  could  tell.  The  waiter  was  ques 
tioned,  but  from  him  nothing  was  elicited. 

"How  did  this  woman  conduct  herself  while  in 
your  house  ?"  asked  Mr.  Dainty. 

"  She  made  herself  very  offensive  to  most  of  my 
boarders,  and  gained  a  singular  influence  over  two 
of  them, — ladies,  who  were  invalids  and  had  been 
suffering  for  years  with  nervous  complaints.  She 
is  a  woman  of  masculine  intellect,  sir.  Few  men 
are  her  equal  in  an  argument.  Her  satire  is 
withering." 

"  So  I  should  infer  from  the  little  I  saw  of  her. 
You  speak  of  her  influence  over  two  ladies  in  your 
family.  How  was  this  obtained  ?" 

"In  what  I  regard  as  a  very  disorderly  way.  Mrs. 
Jeckyl  is  a  'medium,'  as  it  is  called." 

"A  mesmerist,"  said  Mr.  Dainty. 

"Or  spiritualist,  as   some  say.      The  thing  has 
various  names." 
-  "  The  power,  if  any  power  is  possessed  by  these 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        173 


people,"  said  Mr.  Dainty,  with  strong  evidence  of 
feeling,  "is  demoniac." 

"Just  what  I  have  said  from  the  beginning,"  re 
plied  Mrs.  Brainard.  "I  have  seen  much  evil,  but 
no  good,  result  from  these  disorderly  practices.  Had 
I  known  Mrs.  Jeckyl  to  be  a  *  medium,'  she  would 
not  have  found  entrance  into  my  house.  I  have 
closed  my  doors  against  more  than  one  of  them." 

"Then  Mrs.  Jeckyl  mesmerized  the  ladies  to 
whom  you  refer?" 

"She  had  table-tippings,  rappings,  writings,  and 
all  sorts  of  diablerie  going  on  in  their  rooms  for 
nearly  a  week,  turning  the  heads  of  my  boarders, 
when  I  closed  down  upon  her  with  a  strong  hand, 
adding  a  notice  to  vacate  her  apartment.  She  de 
murred,  and  was  insolent.  But  I  have  a  will  of  my 
own,  sir,  and  was  not  to  be  thwarted.  If  she  had 
not  left  at  the  time  specified  in  my  notice,  I  would 
have  had  her  trunk  set  out  on  the  pavement." 

"I  cannot  but  applaud  your  spirit,"  said  Mr. 
Dainty.  "Desperate  diseases  require  desperate  re 
medies.  But  time  passes,  and  I  must  not  linger. 
What  you  say  of  the  woman  only  adds  to  my 
anxiety  and  fear.  I  must  find  her,  and  rescue  my 
child,  ere  sleep  closes  an  eyelid." 

"  Heaven  give  you  success !"  said  Mrs.  Brainard. 

Taking  a  carriage,  Mr.  Dainty  was  driven  rapidly 
15* 


174        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


to  Fifth  and  Noble,  where  he  alighted,  and  com 
menced  to  make  inquiries  from  house  to  house; 
but  no  one  had  heard  of  a  Mrs.  Jeckyl.  After  a 
fruitless  search  of  half  an  hour,  it  occurred  to  him 
that  the  woman  might  have  assumed  another  name : 
so  he  went  over  the  ground  again,  describing  her 
person. 

"There  was  such  a  woman  here."  He  received 
this  reply  at  one  of  the  houses  where  he  called. 

"Was  her  name  Jeckyl  ?" 

"No,  sir;  I  think  it  was  Hawks.  But  I'll  in 
quire,  sir,  if  you'll  wait  a  minute.  Won't  you 
walk  in?" 

Mr.  Dainty  entered  the  house,  and  was  shown  into 
one  of  the  parlors,  where,  after  waiting  a  short  time, 
a  lady  joined  him. 

"  Pardon  this  intrusion,"  said  Mr.  Dainty,  rising. 
"But  I  am  in  search  of  an  Englishwoman  who  some 
three  or  four  weeks  ago  took  boarding  in  this  neigh 
borhood.  Your  servant  informs  me  that  there  was 
a  person  here  answering  to  her  description." 

"What  was  the  name  of  the  woman  of  whom  you 
are  in  search?"  was  inquired. 

"Jeckyl,"  replied  Mr.  Dainty. 

The  lady  shook  her  head. 

"She  may  have  reason  to  pass  by  another  name," 
remarked  Mr.  Dainty. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        175 


"I  don't  know  how  that  may  be.  A  tall,  sinister- 
looking  Englishwoman,  with  an  eye  that  held  a 
lurking  serpent,  took  boarding  here  some  weeks 
ago.  But  she  only  remained  three  or  four  days. 
She  was  disagreeable  to  us,  and  we  made  ourselves 
disagreeable  to  her;  and  so  we  parted." 

"Where  did  she  go?"  Mr.  Dainty  asked,  eagerly. 

The  lady  shook  her  head. 

*'  No  one  in  this  house  knows.  She  went  as  she 
came, — a  marvel  and  a  mystery." 

"And  beyond  this  you  can  give  no  information 
in  regard  to  her  ?" 

"None  whatever." 

Mr.  Dainty  stood  for  some  moments  silent  and 
perplexed.  Then,  with  a  sickening  sense  of  disap 
pointment,  he  retired,  and,  entering  the  carriage 
which  awaited  him  at  the  door,  ordered  the  driver 
to  take  him  to  his  own  house  as  rapidly  as  possible. 
He  brought  with  him  neither  light  nor  comfort,  and 
found  none  awaiting  his  arrival.  Not  a  single  gleam 
of  intelligence  touching  the  absent  one  had  shon 
in  upon  his  afflicted  family. 

What  more  could  be  done?  The  evening  had 
waned,  and  it  was  now  past  the  hour  of  nine.  To 
abandon  all  search  for  the  night  seemed  cruel ;  yet, 
without  a  single  clue  to  unravel  the  mystery  of  the 
child's  absence,  what  step  could  be  taken  toward 


176         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


accomplishing  her  recovery?  "Whither  were  they 
to  go  in  search  of  her  ? 

The  wretched  mother,  from  a  state  of  almost 
frantic  excitement,  had  fallen  into  a  condition  little 
removed  from  stupor.  The  family  physician  was 
called  in  to  see  her,  but  he  prescribed  nothing. 
Her  trouble  was  beyond  the  reach  of  any  medicines 
he  could  give. 

Anxious  and  sleepless  was  that  night  in  the  house 
of  Mr.  Dainty.  Early  in  the  morning  the  search  for 
Madeline  was  renewed.  Not  the  least  active  in  this 
search  was  Miss  Harper.  With  a  perseverance  and 
assiduity  unknown  to  the  sterner  sex,  she  steadily 
sought  to  find  the  clue  that  was  to  unravel  the 
mystery  of  Madeline's  absence.  Starting  where 
Mr.  Dainty  had  begun,  at  Mrs.  Brainard's,  she  went 
from  thence  to  the  house  in  Fifth  Street  where  a 
woman  answering  to  the  description  of  Mrs.  Jeckyl 
had  made  a  brief  sojourn.  Beyond  this  point  Mr. 
Dainty  had  failed  to  go ;  but  Florence  was  not  to  be 
thrown  off  so  easily.  Her  woman's  tact  and  feeling 
all  came  in  to  quicken  the  interest  of  every  member 
in  the  family,  and  the  result  was  a  declaration  on 
the  part  of  a  servant,  who  was  questioned  re 
peatedly,  that  she  thought  she  could  recognise  the 
hack-driver  who  took  the  woman,  with  her  trunk, 
away. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        177 


In  company  with  this  servant,  an  Irish  girl,  Flo 
rence  visited  the  various  hack-stands  in  the  city; 
but  at  none  of  them  did  the  girl  recognise  any 
driver  as  the  one  for  whom  they  were  in  search, 
nd  they  were  going  back,  the  heart  of  Florence 
heavy  with  disappointment,  when  her  companion 
exelaimed, — 

"'Deed,  and  that's  the  very  mon  himself,  so 
it  is!" 

And  she  pointed  to  a  hackman  who  was  leisurely 
driving  his  carriage  along,  just  in  advance  of  them. 

To  spring  forward  was  but  a  natural  impulse,  and 
in  a  moment  the  driver  reined  up  his  horses  at  the 
sign  given  by  Florence.  Leaving  his  box,  he  stepped 
to  the  pavement,  saying,  as  he  did  so, — 

"  "Want  a  carriage,  miss  ?" 

"  I  wish  to  ask  you  a  question  or  two  first,"  re 
plied  Florence,  slightly  confused  at  the  abruptness 
with  which  she  was  confronted  by  the  man. 

"As  many  as  you  please,  miss,"  returned  the  hack- 
driver. 

"How  long  is  it  since  that  woman  left  your 
house  ?"  asked  Florence,  turning  to  the  girl. 

"About  two  weeks,"  was  answered. 

"In  the  morning  or  afternoon  ?" 

"In  the  morning." 

"  And  this  is  the  man  who  drove  her  away  ?" 
M 


178         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"I  think  so.     He  looks  like  Mm,  ony  way." 

"About  two  weeks  ago,"  said  Florence,  now 
addressing  the  hack-driver,  "  a  tall  woman,  dressed 
in  black,  was  taken,  with  her  trunk,  from  a  house  in 
Fifth  Street  near  Noble.  Do  you  remember  any 
thing  about  it?  Were  you  the  driver  ?" 

"  I  was,"  replied  the  man. 

The  whole  frame  of  Miss  Harper  quivered  in 
stantly  with  an  eager  impulse. 

"  Can  you  take  me  to  the  house  where  you  left 
her?"  she  asked. 

The  man  stood  in  thought  for  some  moments,  and 
then  answered, — 

"  I  think  so." 

"Will  you  accompany  me?"  Florence  spoke  to 
the  girl. 

"  Certainly,  miss  :  I'm  at  your  service." 

"Drive  me  there  as  quickly  as  possible."  And 
Florence  stepped  toward  the  door  of  the  carriage, 
which  was  instantly  thrown  open  by  the  hackman. 
Entering,  with  the  girl,  she  seated  herself,  and  was 
soon  driven  rapidly  away  toward  the  northern  part 
of  the  city,  and  through  streets  with  the  aspect  of 
which  she  was  unfamiliar.  At  last  the  carriage 
stopped  before  a  house  of  not  over-inviting  exterior. 
It  was  old,  dingy-looking,  and  had  a  deserted  aspect, 
all  the  shutters  being  closed  to  the  third  story. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        179 


"This  is  the  place,  miss,"  said  the  driver,  as  he 
opened  the  carriage-door. 

"Are  you  certain?"  inquired  Florence,  a  slight 
tremor  running  along  her  nerves  as  she  locked  up 
at  the  house. 

"Dead  sure,"  replied  the  hackman,  in  a  confident 
voice.  "  I  know  the  house  by  its  shut-up  look. 
I've  passed  here  many  a  time,  and  have  never  seen 
a  window  open  yet,  or  the  sign  of  a  human  about 
the  house." 

"  Come,"  said  Florence  to  the  Irish  girl,  ani  the 
two  stepped  from  the  carriage,  and,  crossing  the 
pavement,  ascended  the  steps.  The  bell  was  rung, 
and,  after  waiting  for  a  few  moments,  the  door 
opened,  and  a  slightly-formed  girl,  about  fifteen 
years  of  age,  with  a  singularly  interesting  face,  in 
quired  their  errand. 

"Does  a  Mrs.  Jeckyl  live  here?"  asked  Flo 
rence. 

"No,  ma'am,"  replied  the  girl. 

"Mrs.  Hawks?"  said  the  companion  of  Florence. 

The  girl  shook  her  head. 

""We  were  told,"  said  Florence,  "that  a  woman 
bearing  one  of  these  names  came  to  your  house 
about  two  weeks  ago.  She  was  a  tall  English 
woman,  dressed  in  black." 

""Won't  you  come  in  and  see  my  mother?"    And 


180         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


the  girl  moved  back  a  pace  or  two  from  the 
door. 

According  to  the  invitation,  Florence  stepped 
over  the  threshold  and  entered  the  house,  following 
the  girl,  who  conducted  her  into  the  back-parlor, 
which  was  feebly  lighted  by  the  rays  that  came  in 
through  a  small  opening  in  the  shutters. 

"Sit  down,"  said  the  girl,  "and  I  will  call  my 
mother."  And  she  passed,  with  a  gliding  motion, 
noiselessly  from  the  apartment. 

The  eyes  of  Florence  soon  accommodated  them 
selves  to  the  feeble  light,  and,  gazing  around  the 
room,  she  noted  its  contents  with  curious  interest. 
The  furniture  was  meagre  and  plain,  the  carpets 
worn,  and  the  window-curtains  faded.  A  few  arti 
cles,  which  seemed  the  relics  of  a  better  condition, 
indicated  the  possession  of  taste.  "WTiile  yet  engaged 
in  making  these  observations,  Florence,  whose  eyes 
had  been  peering  into  the  adjoining  parlor,  the 
shutters  of  which  were  closed  tightly,  turned  her 
head  and  met  the  steady,  penetrating  gaze  of  a 
woman  who  had  entered  so  silently  that  no  sound 
of  footfall  had  disturbed  the  air. 

This  woman  was  in  height  a  little  above  the  me 
dium  stature ;  of  slender  proportions ;  with  an  un 
usually  high  and  broad  forehead;  faded,  almost 
sallow,  complexion ;  eyes  black  as  coals,  yet  bright 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        181 


as  fire ;  lips  arching,  thin,  and  flexible ;  and  a  deli 
cate,  receding  chin.  Florence  arose,  and  stood 
before  the  woman  in  momentary  confusion,  her 
eyes  drooping  beneath  her  singularly  penetrating 
gaze. 

"Pardon  this  intrusion,"  said  Florence,  with 
considerable  hesitation  of  manner.  "I  am  in 
search  of  a  person  who,  as  I  am  informed,  came 
to  your  house  some  time  within  the  past  two 
weeks." 

The  woman  requested  Florence  to  resume  her 
seat,  and  then,  drawing  a  chair  in  front  of  her, 
said,  in  a  low,  musical,  yet  not  altogether  pleasant 
voice, — 

"  What  is  the  name  of  the  person  you  are  seek- 
ing?" 

"Mrs.  Jeckyl,"  replied  Florence. 

The  woman  shook  her  head. 

"  She  has  gone  by  the  name  of  Hawks,  I  be 
lieve,"  said  Florence. 

Another  shake  of  the  head,  accompanied  by  the 
remark, — 

"I  do  not  know  any  one  bearing  either  name." 

"  She  is  an  Englishwoman,  tall  of  stature." 

"  Ah !"  The  response  was  in  a  quick  voice,  in 
which  was  a  shade  of  surprise. 

"  She  dressed  in  black,"  said  Florence. 

16 


182        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"Did  you  say  her  name  was  Jeckyl?"  asked  the 
woman. 

"Yes.  But  I  believe  she  has  also  gone  by  the 
name  of  Hawks." 

""Was  she  young,  or  old?" 

"Past  the  middle  point  of  life." 

"  A  woman  answering  your  description  was  here 
about  two  weeks  ago,  and  remained  several  days. 
But  her  name  was  Fordham." 

"  Another  alias,  no  doubt,"  said  Florence,  in  a 
quickened  voice.  "And  now,  madam,  if  you  will 
tell  me  where  I  can  find  her,  you  will  confer  an 
obligation  beyond  all  price." 

"Is  she  a  relation?"  inquired  the  woman,  look 
ing  steadily  into  the  excited  face  of  her  young 
visitor. 

"  No !"  answered  Florence,  with  an  expression  of 
disgust. 

"  Why  do  you  seek  her  ?"  The  manner  and  tone 
of  the  woman  threw  a  chill  over  the  feelings  of 
Miss  Harper. 

"  The  person  I  seek  has,  it  is  feared,  enticed  away, 
or  stolen,  a  little  girl,  whose  mother  is  almost  beside 
herself  in  consequence." 

"A  grave  charge  to  bring  against  any  one,"  said 
the  woman,  seriously.  "I  hardly  think  it  can  apply 
to  Mrs.  Fordham." 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         183 


"  You  know  something  of  her  antecedents,  then  ?" 
Florence  spoke  inquiringly. 

"Nothing,"  answered  the  woman,  almost  coldly. 

"  Where  can  I  find  her  now  ?" 

"I  have  neither  seen  nor  heard  of  her  since  she 
left  my  house,"  said  the  woman. 

The  look  of  distress  that  settled  on  the  counte 
nance  of  Miss  Harper  seemed  to  awaken  a  motion 
of  sympathy  in  the  woman's  heart. 

"  Whose  child  is  missing  ?"  she  inquired,  in  a  soft 
voice. 

"  The  child  of  Mrs.  Edward  Dainty,  number  400 

Street ;  a  little  girl,  eleven  years  old.  She  has 

been  absent  since  yesterday.  The  woman  suspected 
of  the  crime  of  enticing  her  away  was  employed,  a 
short  time  ago,  as  governess,  but  dismissed  almost 
immediately,  in  consequence  of  certain  defects  that 
entirely  destroyed  her  right  influence  over  the  chil 
dren." 

"  What  were  those  defects  ?"  inquired  the  woman, 
evincing  a  new  interest  in  the  matter. 

"  She  attempted,  it  was  thought,  to  magnetize  the 
children." 

"Ah !"  The  woman  seemed  more  interested,  and 
leaned  toward  Florence,  fixing  upon  her,  as  she  did 
so,  her  dark,  bright,  weird-looking  eyes.  There 
was  a  brief  pause. 


184        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"Well,  what  of  it?"  inquired  the  woman,  seeing 
that  Florence  remained  silent. 

"The  consequences  were  serious,  so  far  as  the 
little  girl  I  refer  to  was  concerned,"  said  Florence. 
"  She  was  changed  almost  from  the  hour  Mrs 
Jeckyl  drew  her  within  the  sphere  of  her  influence.'' 

"Delicately  organized,  and  easily  impressed,  no 
doubt."  The  woman  spoke  half  to  herself. 

"She  is  a  sweet,  lovely  child,"  said  Florence, 
"and  it  is  terrible  to  think  of  her  pure,  almost 
infantine  spirit  coming  within  the  sphere  of  such  a 
woman.  Death,  in  my  regard,  would  be  a  blessing 
instead." 

"You  speak  warmly  on  the  subject,"  said  the 
woman. 

"I  have  cause  to  do  so,  for  I  feel  warmly,"  said 
Florence. 

"You  have  met  Mrs.  Jeckyl,  as  you  call  her?" 

"No.     Happily,  I  never  crossed  her  path.     My 
foot  has   not  touched  the   slime  of  her    serpent 
trail!" 

The  woman's  face  darkened,  as  if  a  shadow  had 
fallen  upon  it. 

"  If  the  person  you  call  Jeckyl,  and  the  one  who 
passed  a  few  days  in  my  house,  are  the  same,"  she 
said,  "your  language  is  far  too  strong.  Though  she 
is  to  me,  partially,  a  stranger,  yet  I  have  had  testi- 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        185 


mony  in  regard  to  her  of  the  highest  and  most 
authoritative  character.  I  know  her  quality  as  well 
as  if  I  had  seen  her  heart  laid  open  and  read  it  like 
the  pages  of  a  book.  She  belongs  to  an  exceptional 
class  in  the  present  time.  To  ordinary  people  she 
is  unintelligible.  The  high  purposes  of  her  life  are 
not  appreciated  by  them.  She  cannot  be  weighed 
in  their  balance." 

The  woman  spoke  rapidly,  and  with  enthusiasm, 
quick  changes  running  over  her  face,  and  her  eyes 
brightening  and  darkening  by  turns  like  a  stormy 
sky.  A  low  shudder  of  fear  crept  into  the  heart 
of  Florence  as  she  looked  at  this  woman ;  and  the 
Irish  girl  who  accompanied  her,  and  who  had  until 
now  remained  standing,  moved  backward  toward 
the  door  of  the  room,  gaining  which,  as  a  point  of 
advantage,  she  said, — 

"  'Deed,  and,  miss,  I  think  as  how  we'd  as  well  be 
going  from  here." 

"  Stay  a  moment."  And  Florence  reached  forth 
a  hand  toward  the  girl. 

"  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  I  was  riding  on  a  broom 
stick  next !"  muttered  the  latter,  as  she  receded  into 
the  passage. 

"  Don't  go,  if  you  please.  I  will  be  with  you 
directly."  There  was  a  tremor  of  anxiety  in  the 
tones  of  Florence. 


186         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"  I  will  not  call  in  question  a  word  you  have 
said,"  remarked  Florence,  speaking  in  a  depreca 
tory  tone,  as  she  turned  to  the  woman.  "All  I 
ask  now  is  that  you  give  me  some  clue  by  which  I 
can  trace  this  person  from  the  time  she  left  your 
house.  That  is  my  errand  here ;  and  I  beg,  in  the 
name  of  humanity,  that  you  will  satisfy  it  to  the 
extent  of  your  ability." 

"  I  asked  her  no  questions  when  she  left,"  replied 
the  woman.  "  She  came  with  a  message  from  an 
absent  one  in  the  upper  spheres, — a  message  that 
filled  my  heart  with  reverent  gladness.  As  an 
honored  guest,  she  remained  for  a  few  days  an 
inmate  of  my  house,  and  then  went  as  she  came. 
The  spirits  led  her  here,  and  the  spirits  withdrew  her 
in  their  own  good  time.  She  is  gifted  in  a  high 
degree ;  and  they  have  chosen  her  as  one  of  their 
most  favored  messengers  to  darkly- wandering  mor 
tals.  I  bless  the  day  she  came  to  this  house.  Ah ! 
now  I  see  the  white  garments,  and  now  the  angel- 
face,  of  that  blessed  daughter  who  ten  years  ago  left 
my  heart  desolate." 

The  woman's  eyes  were  elevated,  and  she  seemed 
in  an  ecstatic  vision. 

"  She  removed  the  veil  from  my  dull  eyes, — that 
honored  messenger!"  she  continued,  "and,  by  a 
pure  vision,  I  now  see  beyond  the  dark  boundary 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        187 


which  conceals  the  beautiful  world  where  the 
blessed  ones  dwell.  She  likewise  unstopped  my 
ears,  so  that  they  can  hear  spirit- voices.  I  hearken 
to  them  all  day  long." 

"I  call  nothing  of  this  in  question,"  said  Flo 
rence,  rising,  and  moving  toward  the  door;  "but 
other  matters  of  interest  press  on  me  too  impera 
tively  for  delay.  Once  again,  let  me  implore  you 
to  give  me  some  light.  Think  again !  Is  there  no 
one  likely  to  be  informed  of  her  present  home,  to 
whom  you  could  refer  me?  Let  your  mother's 
heart  counsel  for  me  in  this  matter !" 

"  I  trust  the  spirits  in  all  things.  For  wise  ends 
they  have  hidden  from  me  all  that  pertains  to  their 
favored  messenger.  She  came  in  mystery,  and  de 
parted  as  she  came.  In  the  spirit  I  meet  her  almost 
daily.  In  the  body  I  know  her  not." 

The  Irish  girl  had  already  retreated  beyond  the 
outer  door,  and  stood  upon  the  marble  steps. 
Hopeless  of  gaining  any  information  here  touching 
the  object  of  her  search,  Florence,  over  whose  spirit 
had  fallen  a  strange,  suffocating  fear,  as  if  her  very 
life  were  waning,  turned  from  the  woman,  and  al 
most  rushed,  panic-stricken,  from  the  house. 

"  'Dade,  and  it's  the  divil's  den !"  ejaculated  the 
Irish  girl,  bluntly,  as  they  crowded  into  the  car 
riage.  "  I  wouldn't  go  into  that  house  again  for  a 


188        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


mint  o'  money.      I  expected  every  instant  to  see 
you  spirited  off!" 

Florence  did  not  answer  the  girl,  but  ordered  the 
driver  to  leave  her  at  the  house  in  Fifth  Street  and 
then  to  take  her  to  the  residence  of  Mr.  Dainty. 
She  brought  neither  light,  hope,  nor  comfort  to 
those  who  had  anxiously  awaited  her  return,  and 
found  none  for  her  own  troubled  heart. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        189 


CHAPTER  XVITE. 

A  NEST   OF  PSEUDO-SPIRITUALISTS. 

As  Florence  Harper  left  the  room  in  which  the 
singular  and  exciting  interview  described  in  the 
last  chapter  took  place,  and  fled  in  strange  alarm 
from  the  house,  the  girl  who  had  admitted  her 
came  gliding  in  with  her  noiseless  step  from  the 
adjoining  apartment,  and,  standing  before  the  wo 
man,  who  yet  remained  in  a  partially  ecstatic  con 
dition,  said, — 

"  Oh,  mother !     This  is  dreadful ! — dreadful !" 

"What  are  you  saying,  child?  "What  is  dread 
ful  ?  I  see  beautiful  visions,  and  hear  music  of  an 
gelic  sweetness.  I  see  nothing  dreadful.  Give  me 
your  hands,  Adele  dear." 

And  she  reached  forth  her  small  hands,  so  white 
and  thin  as  to  be  semi-transparent.  But  the  girl 
stepped  back  a  single  pace,  eluding  the  offered 
grasp. 

"Why  don't  you  give  me  your  hands,  child?" 
The  woman  spoke  with  some  impatience. 

"  Because  I  would  rather  keep  them  in  my  own 


190        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


possession  just  now,"  replied  Adele,  in  a  low,  clear 
tone,  the  slight  quiver  in  which  showed  a  disturbed 
state  of  feeling. 

"You  are  perverse,"  said  the  woman.  "The 
spirits  must  be  consulted.  There  are  evil  influences 
at  work." 

"  They  are  at  work  in  that  Mrs.  Fordham,  if,  as 
this  young  lady  says,  she  has  stolen  a  child !"  Adele 
made  answer,  speaking  firmly.  "  I  never  liked  her. 
She's  wicked !" 

"Adele!" 

"I  believe  it,  mother."  The  girl  was  resolute. 
"  She  tried  to  get  me  in  her  power;  but  I  was  able 
to  resist  her,  thank  God !" 

"  Daughter !  daughter !  What  is  the  meaning  of 
this?"  exclaimed  the  woman,  in  surprise  and  dis 
pleasure,  rising  as  she  spoke,  and  advancing  toward 
Adele,  with  the  evident  belief  that  if  she  could  get 
her  hands  upon  her  she  could  more  effectually 
bring  the  full  power  of  her  strong  will  to  bear  in 
subduing  her  rebellious  spirit.  But  Adele  retreated 
into  the  next  room,  saying,  in  a  quick,  decided 
voice, — 

"  I'm  getting  heart-sick  of  all  this,  mother ! 
There  is  in  it  more  of  evil  than  good,  I  sadly  fear. 
I  don't  like  the  people  who  come  here.  Some  of 
them  may  mean  all  right;  but  some  of  them,  I 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         191 


know,  mean  all  wrong ;  and  your  Mrs.  Fordham  is 
one  of  them.  And  so  is  Mr.  Dyer.  I  hate  the 
very  sight  of  him  !  He  said  something  to  me  last 
night," 

"What  did  he  say?"  eagerly  asked  the  mother. 

"  I  can't  tell  you  now,  because  I  promised  him 
that  I  would  not.  But  if  he  says  it  again  I'll  dash 
the  first  thing  into  his  face  that  I  can  lay  my 
hands  on." 

Just  then  the  door-bell  rang,  and  Adele  answered 
the  summons.  The  very  man  about  whom  they 
were  speaking  entered.  The  moment  Adele  saw 
him  she  started  back,  and,  running  along  the  pass 
age,  escaped  from  his  presence  up-stairs. 

"  Mr.  Dyer !"  said  the  mother,  with  a  pleased 
familiarity  of  manner,  singular  under  the  circum 
stances,  to  say  the  least  of  it.  She  gave  him  her 
hand,  which  he  grasped  hard,  and  retained  while 
they  walked  back  into  the  darkened  parlors. 

"Mrs.  Weir!"  was  his  simple  response.  His 
tone  was  low,  penetrating,  agreeable.  Let  us  de 
scribe  Mr.  Dyer.  It  is  the  countenance  that  indi 
cates  the  man.  Chin,  mouth,  nostrils,  eyes,  fore 
head, — on  these  each  one  writes  his  character, 
though  he  tries  never  so  hard  to  play  the  hypocrite. 
The  lineaments  of  the  face  never  lie.  But  in  the 
present  instance  the  face  was  so  much  hidden  by  a 


192        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


hairy  veil  that  much  of  its  true  expression  was  con 
cealed.  Intellectually,  taking  his  rather  low  fore 
head  as  a  guide,  Mr.  Dyer  was  not  a  man  of  supe 
rior  endowments.  But  his  small  brown  eyes, 
shining  out  from  their  hollow  recesses,  indicated 
mental  activity  and  alertness.  The  skin  of  his  fece 
was  colorless,  and  had  a  bleached  appearance,  all 
the  lines  running  down,  as  if  it  had  been  rained 
upon  every  day  for  a  dozen  years.  High  up,  reach 
ing  nearly  to  the  cheek-bones,  the  hairy  in  vesture 
began,  and  that  seemed  to  have  yielded  also  to  the 
causes  which  made  all  the  facial  lines  perpen 
dicular.  It  was  guiltless  of  curl,  or  curving  line 
of  beauty,  but  shot  down,  straight  and  thick,  a  dark 
brown  mass,  wiry  and  unsightly.  The  hair  upon 
his  head  was  long,  dry,  harsh,  and  straight,  lying 
like  the  mane  of  some  beast  upon  his  shoulders. 
His  full,  pouting  lips  indicated  sensuality.  Yet 
even  this  countenance  had  been  schooled  by  a 
sinister  purpose  so  as  to  deceive  some  by  its  meek 
expression  of  goodness. 

Mr.  Dyer  was  that  intellectual,  strong-willed 
woman's  plaything,  a  biologist, — we  use  one  of  the 
names  assumed  by  a  modern  sect  of  pseudo-spirit 
ualists, — a  getter-up  of  circles,  and  a  leader  in  the 
insane  orgies  of  mesmerism  run  mad.  He  was 
wonderfully  given  to  trance-ecstasies,  and  could  ele- 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        193 


vate  himself  into  the  highest  of  the  spiritual  spheres 
in  a  moment  and  at  will.  Familiar  tete-ci-tttes  with 
Adam,  Noah,  Moses,  Socrates,  "Washington,  and  the 
world's  hosts  of  worthies  and  heroes,  were  had  by 
him  daily ;  and  most  of  them  honored  him  as  the 
medium  of  important  communications  to  the  world. 
From  some  cause,  however,  by  the  time  these  com 
munications  reached  the  sphere  of  nature,  they 
had  lost  all  meaning  and  coherence.  Still,  Mr. 
Dyer  enunciated  them  with  oracular  gravity,  and 
many  who  listened  imagined  a  deep  symbolical 
meaning. 

Not  possessing  that  strong,  masculine,  reasoning 
mind  which  gives  man  power  over  man  by  virtue 
of  superior  intellectual  force,  and  yet  having  a  large 
share  of  that  bad  ambition  of  which  Milton's  Satan 
was  a  type,  Mr.  Dyer  sought  influence  over  others — 
females  particularly — by  means  of  modern  witch 
craft,  going  from  house  to  house  "  and  leading  silly 
women  captive,"  and,  by  his  devilish  arts,  withering 
or  destroying  the  budding  germs  of  rational  free 
dom  in  little  children,  whenever  they  chanced  to 
come  within  the  sphere  of  his  blasting  influence. 
He  was  one  of  a  bad  class  of  sensualists,  whose 
active  propensities  gain  power  by  cunning  and 
hypocrisy.  It  was  a  day  of  evil  triumph  with  him 

when  he  discovered  that  he  was  a  "powerful  me- 
N  17 


194        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


dium,"  and  could  subdue  by  means  of  his  stronger 
will  the  consciousness  of  sickly,  nervous  women, 
and  so  control  the  wonderful  organism  of  their 
spirits  as  to  make  them  speak  and  act  like  mere 
automatons.  It  was  a  vast  improvement  on  Maelzel 
and  Kempelon ! 

At  the  time  of  his  introduction  to  the  reader, 
Dyer  had  already  been  the  instrument  of  promoting 
four  separations  between  husband  and  wife.  He  was 
himself  a  married  man ;  but,  having  discovered  that 
another,  a  handsomer,  brighter,  and  more  attractive 
woman  than  his  lawful  partner,  was  conjoined  to 
him  as  to  the  spirit,  and  therefore,  according  to  his 
reading  of  the  matter,  his  real  wife,  he  had  separated 
himself  from  the  heart-broken  woman  against  whom 
he  had  committed  one  of  the  most  grievous  sins  in 
the  crowded  calendar  of  human  wrongs.  In  the 
eye  of  the  law  he  was  a  vagrant,  for  he  had  no 
apparent  means  of  support.  But  he  managed  to 
get  his  share  of  worldly  gear  from  his  duped  or 
corrupt  admirers.  It  was  sufficient  for  some  of 
them  that  the  familiar  spirits,  or  demons,  required 
their  favorite  instrument  to  be  clothed  and  fed  and 
supplied  with  needful  money. 

Such  was  the  man  whose  appearance  gave  evident 
pleasure  to  Mrs.  Weir,  notwithstanding  the  intima 
tion  of  her  daughter,  just  made,  that  his  evil  eyes 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        195 


had  fallen  upon  her,  and  that  already  his  polluting 
breath  had  touched  her  fair  young  cheek. 

As  the  two  entered  the  parlors,  Dyer  still  holding 
the  woman's  hand,  he  gazed  into  her  eyes  with  a 
fixed  look,  beneath  which  her  own  did  not  quail. 

"And  what  have  the  spirits  been  saying  to  you 
this  morning?"  He  spoke  in  a  low  voice,  modulated 
to  musical  cadences,  and  bent  his  face  close  to  hers. 
"  I  can  see,  by  the  lucid  depth  and  strange  ethereal 
brightness  of  your  eyes,  that  you  have  been  holding 
sweet  communion  with  them." 

They  sat  down  upon  a  sofa,  and  Mrs.  "Weir  re 
plied, — 

"  New  spheres  are  opening  to  me.  I  am  anxious 
to  rise  higher,  higher,  into  more  celestial  states ;  but 
the  spirits  are  ever  teaching  me  lessons  of  patience. 
I  am  too  Worldly  yet,  they  say.  The  dross  of  this 
outer  sphere  is  dimming  my  fine  gold ;  the  stain  of 
earth  is  on  my  garments.  Their  low  whispers  are 
lingering  yet  in  my  ears,  and  my  soul  feels  the  hush 
of  a  deep  tranquillity." 

"Beautiful!  Celestial!"  And  Mr. Dyer  raised  his 
hands  in  almost  saintly  benediction. 

"Of  all  this  the  scoffing  world  knows  nothing," 
went  on  Mrs.  "Weir,  murmuring  in  a  soft,  sweet 
voice.  "It  is  too  gross  and  sensual,  and,  like  the 
swine,  tramples  on  these  precious  pearls." 


196        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"And  still,  like  the  swine,"  added  Dyer,  "turns 
upon  and  rends  us  who  cast  them  at  its  feet." 

"Alas!  too  true!"  Mrs.  "Weir  spoke  almost 
sadly. 

"But  the  spirits  sustain  us.  Their  communica- 
>ions  are  our  exceeding  great  reward,"  said  Dyer, 
with  enthusiasm.  "We  are  not  in  the  world  nor 
of  it,  but  enjoy  the  glorious  privileges  of  the  im 
mortals." 

He  leaned  closer. 

"To  the  pure  all  things  are  pure " 

The  door-bell  rung,  and  each  gave  a  start, — a 
shade  of  disappointment  clouding  the  brightness  of 
their  faces. 

"Did  you  expect  another  visitor  at  this  time?' 
asked  Dyer. 

"No,"  replied  Mrs.  "Weir,  as  she  listened  to  the 
light  steps  of  Adele  on  the  stairs  and  moving  along 
the  passage  to  the  door. 

Both  sat  very  still,  hearkening.  A  low  ejaculation 
of  surprise  escaped  the  lips  of  Adele.  Then  were 
heard  the  rustling  of  a  woman's  garments,  and  the 
movement  of  feet. 

Mr.  Dyer  and  Mrs.  Weir  arose  as  the  parlor-door 
was  pushed  open. 

"Mrs.  Fordham !"  exclaimed  the  latter,  as  a  tall 
woman  in  black  entered  with  a  slow,  stately  step, 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        197 


holding  by  the  hand  a  shrinking  little  girl,  who 
drew  back  in  partial  fear  at  the  sight  of  strangers. 
Close  behind  them  was  Adele,  her  usually  quiet  face 
now  alive  with  feeling,  and  her  glance  fixed  with 
eager  interest  on  the  beautiful  child.  She  reached 
out  her  hand  and  said, — 

"  Come,  dear !" 

But  the  woman  reproved  her  with  a  look,  and 
drew  the  little  one  closer. 

"Mrs.  Fordham!  Welcome  again!"  said  Dyer, 
giving  the  visitor  his  hand.  "You  drop  down  upon 
us  as  if  from  cloud-land.  I  thought  you  were  far 
away.  But  who  have  we  here  ?" 

And  he  stooped  a  little,  carefully  examining  the 
child's  face. 

"A  prize, — a  treasure, — a  good  gift  from  our 
generous  spirits,"  answered  Mrs.  Fordham,  as  she 
sat  down  with  the  air  of  one  who  felt  herself  at 
home,  and  lifted  the  child  upon  her  lap.  Drawing 
her  head  down  upon  her  bosom,  she  made  a  pass  6r 
two  with  her  hand,  and  the  little  girl  was  still  as  an 
effigy. 

"There  never  was  a  more  impressible  subject," 
said  the  woman,  "nor  one  through  whom  spirits 
communicate  more  freely.  I  saw  it  in  her  the 
instant  my  eyes  rested  on  her  face.  Then  I  con 
sulted  the  spirits,  and  they  said  that  she  was  born 

17* 


198        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


to  a  high  mission.  But  how  was  she  to  he  "brought 
into  the  sphere  of  her  holy  calling?  In  common 
language,  she  was  not  mine.  I  was  not  the  instru 
ment  of  her  hirth,  and  therefore,  in  the  world's 
regard,  had  no  right  to  dispose  of  her.  Again  I 
consulted  the  spirits.  The  answer  was  clear.  The 
bars  of  custom  must  he  thrown  down,  they  said. 
The  child  was  destined  to  a  high  use,  and  human 
"bonds  must  not  restrain  her.  For  a  time  the 
spirit  was  willing  but  the  flesh  weak.  I  hesitated, 
held  back,  doubted;  but  clearer  and  clearer  came 
the  indications.  At  last  all  communication  was 
withdrawn  from  me.  I  asked,  but  received  no 
answer;  again  and  again  I  called  to  my  old  and 
dear  companions,  but  not  even  a  faint,  far-off  echo 
was  returned  to  my  half-despairing  cry.  Then,  and 
not  till  then,  I  yielded.  I  sent  forth  my  thought 
and  affection  toward  this  child — this  beloved  one 
of  the  spirits — and  drew  her  toward  me.  Though 
distant  as  to  the  body,  I  felt  that  my  hands  were 
upon  her,  and  that  she  was  approaching.  And  she 
came  in  good  time, — came  and  threw  herself  into 
my  arms, — a  young  devotee  to  this  new  science,  a 
neophyte  priestess  for  service  at  the  altar  in  that 
grand  spiritual  temple,  the  walls  of  which  are 
towering  upward  to  heaven." 

Mrs.  Fordharn's  eyes  gradually  assumed  an  up- 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         199 


ward  angle :  a  rapt  expression  came  into  her  face ; 
her  voice  was  deep  and  muffled  by  feeling. 

"Precious  darling!  Chosen  one!  Beloved  of  the 
angels  !"  said  Mrs.  Weir,  bending  over  the  little  girl, 
who  now  lay  in  a  trance-sleep  against  the  woman's 
bosom. 

"  "Will  the  spirits  communicate  through  her  now?" 
asked  Dyer. 

"Let  me  inquire  of  them,"  answered  the  woman. 
And  she  relapsed  into  a  state  of  real  or  apparent 
cessation  of  all  exterior  consciousness.  Ten  minutes 
of  almost  pulseless  silence  followed,  the  child  still 
lying  in  her  strange,  unnatural  sleep. 

"  They  will  speak,"  said  Mrs.  Fordham,  in  a  deep 
yet  hushed  tone.  Then  she  laid  her  hand  gently  on 
the  colorless  face  of  the  child-medium,  and  held  it 
there  for  the  space  of  several  seconds.  A  few  light 
passes  followed.  The  child  caught  her  breath :  there 
were  slight  convulsive  spasms  of  the  chest  and 
'imbs,  while  a  most  painful  expression  saddened  her 
gentle  face. 

"Dear  child  !"  murmured  Mrs.  "Weir. 

"It  is  the  strife  in  her  soul  of  evil  spirits  against 
the  good,"  said  Mrs.  Fordham.  "She  is  not  yet 
wholly  purified  for  her  great  mission.  Happily  for 
her,  the  battle  is  fought  in  states  of  unconsciousness. 
She  is  spared  all  suffering." 


200        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"The  spirits  love  and  protect  her,"  said  Dyer. 

"  They  love  and  protect  their  own ;  and  she  is 
theirs,"  answered  Mrs.  Fordham. 

As  she  spoke,  she  raised  the  child  to  a  sitting 
posture.  Her  eyes  were  still  closed,  and  the  look 
of  sadness  and  suffering  yet  remained.  Dyer  drew 
a  chair  and  sat  down  directly  in  front  of  her.  Mrs. 
Weir  took  another  and  did  the  same,  but  arose 
immediately,  and,  looking  to  the  opposite  side  of  the 
room,  said, — 

"  Come,  Adele ;  bring  a  chair  and  sit  down  with 
us." 

But  Adele  neither  answered  nor  stirred. 

"Daughter,  did  you  hear  me?"  Mrs.  "Weir's 
voice  was  firmer. 

"I  do  not  wish  to  come  into  the  circle,"  replied 
Adele. 

"Don't  be  foolish,  child :   come,"  said  Mrs.  Weir. 

"No,  mother:  I  wish  to  be  excused." 

Mrs.  Weir  was  moving  across  the  room  toward 
her  daughter,  when  Dyer  said, — 

"  Stop,  madam  !    Let  us  consult  the  spirits." 

Mrs.  Weir  came  back. 

"  Mrs.  Fordham,  ask  the  spirits  about  this  strange 
perverseness,"  said  Dyer. 

The  woman  closed  her  eyes  and  sat  quite  still  for 
a  minute. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        201 


"  The  spirits  require  the  circle  to  be  harmonized," 
\vas  Mrs.  Fordhain's  decision. 

"You  must  come,  Adele!"  Dyer  spoke  half 
authoritatively. 

But  Adele  stood  as  firm  as  marble. 

"  Adele !"  Mrs.  "Weir's  voice,  now  sharp  and  com 
manding,  thrilled  through  the  rooms. 

"  There  are  other  spirits  besides  Mrs.  Ford- 
ham's  familiars,  and  they  tell  me  not  to  harmonize 
her  circle  to-day,"  answered  Adele,  speaking  very 
calmly,  and  with  meaning  emphasis. 

"They  are  evil,  lying  spirits!"  exclaimed  Dyer, 
with  excitement. 

"From  the  infernal  spheres,"  said  Mrs.  Fordham, 
solemnly.  "  I  am  afraid,  Mrs.  Weir,  that  sirens  are 
seeking  to  possess  your  daughter,  that  they  may 
utterly  destroy  her." 

"Adele,  come!  Flee  to  us  quickly!"  cried  Mrs. 
"Weir,  in  a  tremor  of  excitement,  stretching  forth 
her  hands. 

"My  spirits  are  true,  and  I  believe  them!" 
answered  the  girl,  resolutely.  And  she  stood  im 
movable. 

"The  spirits  will  not  communicate  unless  the 
circle  is  harmonized,"  said  Mrs.  Fordham,  with  ill- 
concealed  impatience. 


202         THE  ANQEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"Let  the  perverse  creature  withdraw,  then."  Mr. 
Dyer  spoke  sharply. 

"  Go  !"  said  Mrs.  Fordham,  waving  her  hand. 

But  Adele  stirred  not. 

"  Go  !"  repeated  her  mother. 

There  was  not  a  sign  of  obedience. 

"All  things  must  harmonize,  or  the  spirits  will 
not  answer.  If  the  girl  will  not  come  into  the 
circle,  she  must  leave  the  room."  It  was  Mrs.  Ford- 
ham  who  spoke. 

"  The  spirits  tell  me  to  remain,  and  I  will  obey 
them !"  said  Adele,  with  unwavering  firmness. 

"  They  are  bad  spirits !"  Dyer  almost  thundered 
out  the  words,  his  pent-up  anger  and  impatience 
getting  the  better  of  his  self-control. 

"Lying  spirits!"  shrieked  Mrs.  Fordham,  catch 
ing  the  excitement  of  the  man. 

"Who  is  to  decide?"  asked  Adele,  calmly. 

"Heaven's  messenger!"  said  Mrs.  Weir,  pointing 
to  Mrs.  Fordham.  "It  is  through  her  that  the 
spirits  of  the  higher  spheres  descend." 

"  Heaven's  messengers  don't  rob  mothers  of  their 
children!"  Adele  answered.  "If  there  are  lying 
spirits  in  the  case,  they  have  found  access  to  her 
ears,  not  mine !" 

"  Heavens  and  earth !"  exclaimed  Dyer,  starting 
to  his  feet ;  "  what  does  the  girl  mean  ?" 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         203 


Mrs.  Fordliam's  self-imposed  calmness  all  departed, 
and  the  fire  in  her  eyes  shot  out  toward  Adele  like 
serpent-tongues.  With  three  or  four  quick  passes, 
she  restored  the  little  girl  who  sat  in  her  lap  to  a 
half-dreamy  consciousness  of  real  things,  and  then, 
taking  two  or  three  strides  toward  the  door,  said, 
glancing  over  her  shoulder, — 

"  The  same  room,  Mrs.  "Weir?" 

"  The  same,"  was  answered,  and  woman  and  child 
disappeared  from  sight. 


204        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE   BIKD   AND   THE   SERPENT. 

"You  needn't  stand  glowering  upon  me  after  that 
fashion,  John  Dyer !"  said  Adele,  after  Mrs.  Ford- 
ham  and  the  child  had  left  the  room.  "I  know 
you,  sir !" 

"  Silence !"  was  the  passionate  response,  and 

"  Silence !"  was  repeated,  though  in  feebler  utter 
ance,  from  the  mother  of  Adele. 

"  That  is  a  wicked  woman !"  said  the  girl,  reso 
lutely.  "  There  is  a  serpent  in  her  eyes.  I  saw  it 
when  she  was  last  here ;  and  it  looks  out  with 
keener  venom  now.  Mother,  beware  of  her! — 
and — "  she  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  went  on, 
in  a  bolder  tone, — "beware  of  him!  There  is  an 
adder  in  your  path :  one  step  more,  and  it  will  sting 
you  to  death  !" 

She  pointed  her  finger  steadily  at  Dyer,  and  stood 
gazing  at  him  until  his  eyes  fell  in  confusion.  Then 
she  passed  from  the  room  with  rapid  but  noiseless 
feet,  gliding  away  like  a  spirit. 

"An  enemy  hath  done  this,"  said  Dyer,  almost 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        205 


meekly,  turning  to  the  mother  of  Adele.  "You 
have  slumbered,  I  fear,  and  let  the  evil  one  scatter 
tares  in  your  field." 

"I  know  not  its  meaning,"  sighed  Mrs.  Weir. 
"  This  morning  I  noted  the  first  signs  of  a  perverse 
temper." 

"What  were  the  signs?"  Dyer  looked  sharply 
into  her  face,  reading  every  changing  lineament,  as 
if  he  were  scanning  the  pages  of  a  book.  There 
was  slight  confusion,  and  a  moment's  hesitation,  on 
the  part  of  Mrs.  "Weir.  She  then  answered, — 

"I  desired  to  take  her  hand  and  lead  her  up 
among  the  beatific  mountains,  but  she  held  back. 
I  urged,  and  she  refused.  She  then  acknowledged 
having  resisted  Mrs.  Fordham  in  the  same  way  when 
that  honored  messenger  made  my  house  bright 
with  her  presence.  Oh,  it  is  distressing  me  beyond 
utterance !" 

"  Can  you  trace  the  cause  ?"  inquired  the  man. 

"No." 

"  Your  sphere  is  not  strong  enough." 

"Who  has  a  stronger  sphere  than  Mrs. Fordham ?" 
queried  the  mother.  "  She  has  set  her  at  defiance 
also :  nay,  her  power  of  resistance  just  now  proved 
more  than  our  combined  influence  was  able  to  over 
come." 

"I  can  do  it!"  said  Dyer,  after  a  pause.     "Leave 

18 


206         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


her  in  my  hands.     I  will  exorcise  the  spirits  of 
evil." 

"  Your  sphere  repels  her." 

Dyer  was  on  the  alert  again,  and  his  keen  glances 
were  upon  the  face  of  his  companion. 

"Has  she  said  so?" 

"Yes.  And  you  heard  her  strange  language  just 
now." 

"Well?    What  further?" 

"I  have  nothing  further.  "We  know  that  antago 
nistic  spheres  exist." 

"  True,  true."  The  man  seemed  relieved.  "  She 
has  compared  me  to  a  serpent.  But  I  know  my 
own  heart.  Evil,  be  thou  far  from  me !  Come, 
angelic  purity!  As  we  draw  nearer  the  invisible 
world  we  grow  more  ethereal,  and  the  coarseness 
of  depraved  nature  is  dissipated  in  the  fire  of  divine 
affinities.  To  the  pure  all  things " 

The  ringing  of  the  door-bell  again  interrupted 
their  pleasant  communion,  and  in  a  few  moments 
they  were  joined  by  two  visitors, — females, — who 
met  Dyer  and  Mrs.  Weir  in  a  manner  that  showed 
them  to  be  on  terms  of  close  familiarity. 

In  the  mean  time  the  woman  Fordham  had  retired 
with  the  child  to  one  of  the  chambers  above,  her 
mind  deeply  disturbed  by  the  unexpected  incident 
of  Adele's  opposition  to  the  necromantic  rites  about 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         207 


being  instituted, — so  much  disturbed  that  she  was 
unable  to  prolong  the  spell  she  wished  to  throw 
over  the  consciousness  of  the  little  girl,  who  mo 
mently  became  more  and  more  distressingly  alive  to 
the  strangeness  of  her  position. 

"Oh,  ma'am,"  she  said,  in  pleading  tones,  as  the 
woman  shut  the  door  on  entering  the  chamber, 
"  won't  you  take  me  home  ?  Mother  is  crying  for 
me.  I  heard  her  crying  all  last  night.  Oh,  dear ! 
I  do  want  to  go  home  to  my  mother!" 

"Don't  fret  yourself,  child!"  replied  the  woman, 
a  little  harshly.  "  You  shall  go  home." 

"  Take  me  home  now,  won't  you  ?  I  don't  like 
to  be  here.  You  promised  me  yesterday  that  I 
should  go  home  before  night.  Oh,  ma'am,  do  take 
me  home  now !" 

The  little  clasped  hands  were  raised  pleadingly ; 
the  husky  voice  quivered ;  the  pale  face  had  in  it  a 
look  of  fear  and  distress  that  would  have  melted 
any  heart  not  made  hard,  by  selfish  passions,  as  th 
nether  millstone. 

"  You  shall  go  home,  dear,"  said  the  woman, 
softening  her  voice  and  assuming  an  affectionate 
manner.  "You  shall  see  your  mother  to-night." 

And  she  tried  to  lift  her  upon  her  lap,  but  the 
child  resisted  and  held  back.  Then  the  woman 
seized  her  by  both  arms,  and  held  her  firmly,  look- 


208         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


ing  into  her  eyes,  and  exerting  the  serpent's  power 
of  fascination. 

The  child  stood  still,  held  by  a  grip  too  strong  for 
resistance,  but  she  let  her  eyes  fall. 

"  Look  at  me  !"  commanded  the  woman.  But 
the  glance  she  hoped  to  catch  and  hold  in  her  weird 
gaze  did  not  turn  itself  from  the  floor. 

"Look  at  me  !  Do  you  hear?"  And  the  woman 
placed  one  hand  under  the  little  girl's  chin  and 
forced  her  face  upward.  But,  instead  of  looking  at 
the  woman,  the  child  shut  her  eyes. 

Holding  her  thus,  Mrs.  Fordham  commenced  with 
one  hand  a  series  of  mesmeric  passes ;  but  the  child 
struggled  and  tried  to  escape  from  her.  A  blow 
was  evidently  meditated,  for  there  was  a  quick 
raising  of  one  hand,  accompanied  by  an  angry  Hash 
sweeping  over  the  woman's  face.  But  the  cruel 
purpose  was  repressed. 

"What  has  come  over  the  girl?"  she  muttered, 
impatiently.  "  Am  I  thus  to  be  baffled  again  ?  I 
did  not  look  for  it  here !  But  down,  excitement ! 
If  I  would  regain  my  power,  it  must  be  through 
calmness  and  a  resolute  will." 

Releasing  the  child,  who  instantly  shrunk  away 
to  the  farther  side  of  the  room,  Mrs.  Fordham 
assumed  an  unimpassioned  manner,  but  kept  her 
gaze  steadily  resting  upon  her  victim. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        209 


The  woman  sat  on  the  bedside,  and  the  child 
stood  pale,  trembling,  and  in  tears,  crouching  against 
the  wall  directly  opposite.  Every  thing  became 
silent  and  motionless  as  death.  The  child  did  not 
ook  up,  but  steadily  persisted  in  avoiding  the  gaze 
of  her  persecutor.  But  the  powers  of  evil  were  too 
strong :  there  was  an  eye  upon  her  that  possessed 
a  charm  too  potent  for  her  to  withstand ;  she  was  a 
frightened  bird  struggling,  but  in  vain,  against  the 
fascination  of  a  serpent.  One,  too,  three  minutes 
passed ;  all  remained  hushed  as  if  statues  and  not 
living  forms  were  in  the  room.  At  last  the  woman 
stirred  slightly,  as  though  the  inner  excitement  had 
struggled  through  all  restraining  bars  and  shuddered 
along  the  surface :  her  head  gradually  bent  forward, 
and  her  eyes  protruded  fearfully.  And  now  there 
was  an  apparent  relaxation  of  muscle  in  the  child. 
Evidently,  her  will  was  losing  its  faculty  of  resist 
ance.  A  minute  more,  and  the  woman  began 
approaching,  with  the  stealthy  movements  of  a  cat$ 
her  eyes  still  fixed  intently  upon  the  girl.  Cau 
tiously,  and  as  if  in  doubt,  she  laid  her  hand  against 
her  cheek,  touching  it  lightly.  The  child  did  not 
stir!  She  pressed  the  hand  harder:  there  was  no 
sign  of  consciousness !  She  called :  there  was  no 
answer ! 

Suddenly  a  new  life  seemed  thrilling  along  the 
0  18* 


210        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


woman's  veins.  Her  countenance  flushed;  her 
eyes  danced  in  light;  her  whole  person  quivered. 
Stooping  over  the  child,  she  lifted  her  with  some 
caution,  as  if  fearing  the  spell  might  dissolve,  bore 
her  across  the  room,  and  laid  her  upon  the  bed. 
Then  she  made  slow  passes  above  her  for  the  space 
of  nearly  five  minutes. 

"All  right!"  she  muttered,  as  a  glow  of  evil 
triumph  warmed  her  disfigured  face,  and  her  thin 
lips  parted  in  a  demoniac  smile.  "It  was  a  hard 
struggle,  but  a  vain  one !  There  is  an  opposition 
of  spheres  in  this  house,  and  the  medium  of  its 
activity  is  Adele  Weir.  Twice  has  she  set  me  at 
defiance,  twice  thwarted  the  spirits.  It  must  not 
occur  again.  Am  I  to  be  set  at  naught  by  a  strip 
ling  of  a  girl  like  this  ?" 

After  standing  over  the  unconscious  child  for 
some  time  longer,  and  using  sundry  tests  to  make 
sure  that  she  was  completely  locked  in  magic  slum 
ber,  Mrs.  Fordham  turned  away,  and,  passing 
through  the  door,  closed  it,  and  was  going  down 
stairs,  when  a  slight  noise  caught  her  ear.  Glancing 
up  in  the  direction  from  which  it  came,  she  caught 
sight  of  Adele  watching  her  from  the  passage 
above.  It  was  only  a  momentary  glimpse ;  for,  on 
finding  that  she  was  observed,  Adele  retired  from 
sight  instantly. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


Mrs.  Fordham  paused,  stood  thinking  for  a  little 
while,  and  then  slowly  returned  to  the  room.  She 
entered  and  examined  the  lock  on  the  inside.  It 
held  a  key.  This  was  removed  and  passed  into  the 
wards  on  the  other  side. 

"Thus  I  make  surety  doubly  sure,"  she  said  to 
herself,  again  closing  the  door,  which  she  locked, 
placing  the  key  in  her  pocket.  She  then  went 
down  to  the  parlor. 

"How  is  our  litUe  trance-medium?"  asked  Dyer, 
as  she  entered. 

"All  right,"  was  answered.  "Spirits  from  the 
lower  spheres  have  battled  hard  for  her,  but  the 
strife  was  vain.  She  is  safe." 

"  I  congratulate  you  on  the  triumph,"  said  Mrs. 
"Weir,  enthusiastically.  "  She  is  a  lovely  child," 
was  added,  with  a  touch  of  mother-feeling  in  her 
voice. 

"  The  most  remarkable  child-medium  I  have  yet 
seen."  Mrs.  Fordham  looked  at  the  two  visitors 
before  mentioned.  "  The  communications  received 
through  her  are  extraordinary.  I  am  taking  record 
of  them  daily,  and  their  publication  will  astonish 
the  world.  Society  is  on  the  eve  of  some  new 
developments.  It  is  the  night  before  the  morning." 

"Is  she  tranquil?"  asked  Mrs.  "Weir. 

"Entirely  so." 


212        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"Sleeping?" 

"All  the  avenues  to  her  soul  are  locked,  and  I 
have  the  key,"  said  Mrs.  Fordham,  with  triumph  in 
her  tones.  "Hark!"  She  paused  and  listened,  her 
eyes  raised  to  the  ceiling.  After  a  few  moments  of 
silence,  she  went  on.  "I  thought  there  was  a 
movement  in  the  room  above.  But  it  was  imagi 
nation,  I  presume." 

"Is  there  no  danger  of  her  awakening?"  asked 
one  of  the  visitors. 

"None:  only  the  hand  that  shut  the  door  of  her 
soul's  consciousness  can  open  it  again." 

"How  wonderful  is  this  power!"   said  the  last 
speaker.      "I  tremble   sometimes    to  think  what 
terrible  consequences  might  follow  its  abuse." 
.  "There  is  no  danger  of  its  abuse,"  returned  Mrs. 
Fordham. 

"You  think  not?" 

"I  am  sure  of  it." 

"None  but  the  favored  of  spirits  are  intrusted 
with  this  power,"  said  Dyer;  "and  they  are  pro 
tected." 

""Will  not  the  spirits  speak  through  her  to-day?" 
asked  one  of  the  visitors. 

"I  do  not  know.  There  have  been  opposing  influ 
ences;  but  I  trust  they  are  removed.  In  half  an 
hour  we  will  go  up  to  where  she  is  lying  in  trance- 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        213 


sleep;  and  perhaps  the  spirits  will  move  her  to 
utterance." 

"Is  she  a  speaking  or  writing  medium?"  was 
asked. 

"  Speaking.  "Whenever  her  lips  are  unclosed,  it 
seems  as  if  you  heard  a  spirit  talking." 

Half  an  hour  was  permitted  to  elapse,  and  then 
Mrs.  Fordham,  Dyer,  Mrs.  Weir,  and  the  two 
visitors  passed  with  hushed  footsteps  up  to  the 
chamber.  At  the  door  Mrs.  Fordham  paused,  and, 
speaking  to  Mrs.  Weir,  said, — 

"Your  daughter  must  not  be  permitted  to  enter. 
The  circle  cannot  be  harmonized  if  she  is  present." 

"I  will  see  to  it,"  was  whispered  back. 

The  door  was  then  unlocked,  and  the  company 
entered,  each  one  with  suspended  breath.  Mrs. 
Fordham  preceded;  but,  ere  she  had  gone  half 
across  the  room,  an  exclamation  of  surprise  and  dis 
appointment  fell  from  her  lips.  The  child  was  not 
there !  In  less  than  half  a  minute  every  part  of  the 
chamber  was  searched ;  but  no  sign  of  the  missing 
one  appeared. 

"She  may  have  thrown  herself  from  the  win 
dow!"  said  Mrs.  "Weir,  blank  terror  in  her  counte 
nance  at  the  thought. 

The  window  was  opened,  but  no  form  lay  on  the 
ground  beneath. 


214  THE  ANGEL  AND  THE   DEMON. 


""Where  is  your  daughter?"  demanded  Mrs. 
Fordham. 

Mrs.  Weir  stepped  to  the  door,  and  called, 
"Adele!"  Twice,  thrice  she  called;  but  only  echo 
replied. 

"It  is  her  work!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Fordham, 
roused  to  mad  excitement. 

"  Impossible !"  said  Mrs.  "Weir.  "  Adele !  Adele !" 
Her  voice  went  thrilling  through  the  house. 

"  Search  everywhere,  from  garret  to  cellar !" 
Mrs.  Fordham  spoke  in  a  commanding  voice,  and 
then  went  striding  up-stairs  and  sweeping  like 
a  storm  from  room  to  room.  Chambers,  attics, 
lumber-rooms,  closets,  cellar,  and  out-buildings, 
they  searched  with  scrupulous  care;  but  neither 
Adele  nor  the  child  were  found.  Both  had 
vanished  from  the  house,  leaving  no  sign. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        215 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE    RESCUE. 

"  THIS  is  going  too  far,"  said  Adele,  as  she  came 
forward  again  and  stood  in  sight  of  the  room  where 
the  child  lay  in  its  fearfully-unnatural  sleep,  after 
Mrs.  Fordham  had  gone  down  to  the  parlors  to  join 
Mrs.  Weir  and  her  companions.  Slowly,  listening 
almost  breathlessly,  and  with  silent  footsteps,  she 
descended  the  stairs,  and,  approaching  the  chamber, 
laid  her  hand  upon  the  door-knob  and  turned  and 
pressed  against  it.  To  her  disappointment,  she 
found  that  Mrs.  Fordham  had  locked  her  prisoner 
in  and  withdrawn  the  key. 

For  a  little  while  Adele  stood  by  the  door,  her 
face  shadowed  with  perplexity.  She  then  moved 
silently  away,  and,  going  into  her  own  room,  sat 
down,  with  a  sober  face,  to  think.  The  right 
thought  was  soon  suggested.  Starting  up  with  a 
sudden  impulse,  she  went  to  the  door  of  her  own 
apartment  and  quickly  withdrew  the  key.  It  fitted 
the  lock,  as  she  had  hoped,  and  in  less  than  ten 
seconds  she  was  in  the  room  where  the  child  lay  in 


216        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


its  deathlike  slumber.  Carefully  shutting  the  door, 
she  crossed  to  the  bed.  The  child  had  not  stirred 
since  Mrs.  Fordham  left  the  chamber.  Stooping 
down,  Adele  gazed  upon  the  pure  young  face,  until 
tears  blinded  her  eyes.  Then,  laying  a  hand  upon 
her,  she  shook  her  gently.  But  not  a  sign  of  life, 
beyond  the  feeble  respiration,  appeared. 

An  expression  half  surprise,  half  fear,  came  into 
the  young  girl's  countenance;  and  she  stood  quite 
still  for  an  instant.  Then,  laying  her  hand  again 
upon  the  child,  she  shook  her  violently,  putting  at 
the  same  time  her  mouth  to  her  ear,  and  saying, 
in  a  low  but  eager  voice,  "  Wake !  wake  up ! 
Come !" 

But  she  might  as  well  have  spoken  to  the  dead. 
The  sleeper's  senses  were  locked  by  a  key  that  was 
not  in  her  possession ;  and  so  she  could  neither  find 
the  wards  nor  spring  the  bolt. 

For  a  little  while  Adele  remained  bewildered  and 
irresolute.     Then  she  made  a  more  violent  effort  tc 
break  the  spell  that  shut  the  doors  of  conscious  life 
It  was  in  vain.  r 

"  Time  flies.  It  must  be  done  .now,  or  the  op 
portunity  may  pass  forever.  Poor  child !  Poor 
lamb  in  the  wolf's  grasp!  I  must,  I  will,  save 
you!" 

Turning  from   the  bed,  as  she  thus  spoke  with 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         217 


herself,  Adele  left  the  room,  and,  going  to  her  own 
chamber,  hurriedly  put  on  a  bonnet  and  shawl,  arid 
then,  coming  back,  lifted  the  sleeper  resolutely  in 
her  arms,  and,  bearing  her  from  the  apartment, 
locked  the  door  and  withdrew  the  key.  For  a 
few  moments  she  stood  at  the  top  of  the  stairs, 
irresolute  as  to  her  next  step.  Then,  laying  her 
burden  upon  the  floor,  she  went  down  the  first 
flight  and  listened.  The  sound  of  muffled  voices 
from  the  parlor  was  distinct  enough  to  warn  her 
that  one  of  the  doors  at  least  was  open,  and  that  it 
would  be  folly  to  attempt  to  leave  the  house  by  the 
front  way.  There  was  an  outlet  back,  by  means  of 
a  narrow  alley  leading  past  a  row  of  small  houses 
into  a  court,  und  thence  to  a  street  running  parallel 
with  the  one  on  which  Mrs.  Weir  lived.  But,  to 
reach  the  yard  so  as  to  gain  this  outlet,  Adele  must 
descend  the  stairway,  the  foot  of  which  was  near 
the  back-parlor,  and  pass  out  by  a  door  opening 
within  a  few  feet  of  the  parlor-window.  This  mode 
of  egress  was,  therefore,  almost  as  impossible  as  the 
first,  for  the  window  she  knew  was  open. 

For  a  little  while  the  excited  girl  was  in  despair; 
and  the  words,  "  It  is  hopeless,"  were  on  her  lips, 
when  she  thought  of  a  low  shed  out  upon  which 
she  could  climb  from  one  of  the  second-story  win 
dows  of  the  back-building.  To  think  was  to  act. 

19 


218         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


Hurriedly  lifting  the  child,  she  passed  into  th« 
small  room  over  the  kitchen,  closing  the  door 
behind  her,  so  as  not  to  be  seen  by  any  one  who 
might  happen  to  come  up  the  stairway.  The  win 
dow  was  raised :  a  glance  at  the  shed  below  showed 
the  distance  to  be  not  less  than  three  feet  from  the 
window-sill.  There  was  a  low  table  in  the  room : 
on  this  she  laid  her  burden  carefully,  and  then  drew 
it  to  the  window.  A  quick  but  searching  examina 
tion  of  all  the  windows  overlooking  the  position 
she  occupied  told  her  that  she  was  free  from  ob 
servation.  Next  she  dropped  down  lightly  upon 
the  shed,  and  from  thence  sprung  like  an  antelope 
to  the  yard,  full  six  feet  below,  her  form  disappear 
ing  beyond  the  edge  of  the  slanting  shed.  For 
tunately,  there  was  an  old  table  in  the  yard,  which 
Adele  drew  up  to  the  side  of  the  outbuilding,  and, 
mounting  thereon,  without  an  instant  of  hesitation, 
clambered  to  the  roof,  and  gained  the  window,  just 
inside  of  which  the  child  still  lay  as  motionless  as  if 
she  were  dead.  It  was  only  the  work  of  an  instant 
to  draw  her  forth  and  carry  her  to  the  eaves  of  the 
shed,  where  Adele  laid  her  carefully  and  then 
leaped  down  upon  the  table  below.  Then  she  took 
her  in  her  arms  and  lifted  her  from  the  shed,  and 
then  jumped  to  the  pavement,  bearing  the  heavy 
burden  still  in  her  arms.  Almost  like  a  spirit  she 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        219 


vanished  through  the  gate,  shutting  it  noiselessly 
behind  her.  Hurrying  down  the  long  alley-way 
and  through  the  court,  Adele  emerged  upon  the 
open  street.  An  omnibus  was  passing  at  the  mo 
ment,  and  she  signed  the  driver  to  stop.  It  so  hap 
pened  that  no  passengers  had  yet  entered  the  vehicle, 
and  this  made  her  and  her  insensible  companion 
the  sole  occupants  when  it  moved  on  again.  Taking 
the  extreme  upper  end  of  the  seat,  she  placed  the 
child  in  an  upright  position,  so  as  not  to  attract  the 
attention  of  those  who  might  come  in,  and  sup 
ported  her  with  one  arm. 

The  stage  moved  on  for  two  squares  before  gain 
ing  any  accession  to  the  number  of  its  passengers. 
Then  two  ladies  came  in.  They  looked  hard  at 
Adele ;  also  at  the  child  whose  face  was  hidden 
among  her  garments.  Two  men  came  in  next; 
and  then  a  woman  with  a  little  girl.  After  that, 
an  elderly  man  entered.  He  kept  looking  up  and 
down  the  cross-streets,  and  glancing  at  the  passen 
gers  on  the  sidewalks,  in  a  curious,  anxious  kind  of 
way,  as  if  in  search  of  some  one.  At  last  he  fixed 
his  eyes  on  Adele  with  a  gaze  so  penetrating  that 
it  brought  the  color  to  her  face.  From  her  he 
looked  to  the  child  crouching  down  in  the  corner 
of  the  seat,  and  kept  gazing  at  the  half-hidden  form 
until  Adele  by  a  slight  movement  threw  her  body 


220        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


farther  forward,  so  as  to  conceal  it  still  more  from 
observation. 

Where  was  Adele  going  with  the  rescued  child  ? 
That  question  the  girl  could  not  herself  answer. 
Escape  was  the  first  thing,  and  flight  the  second. 
The  passing  omnibus  had  given  the  second  stage 
in  the  proceeding.  All  beyond  was  still  in 
doubt. 

One  passenger  after  another  left,  until  only  Adele 
with  her  charge,  and  the  old  gentleman,  remained. 
The  curiosity  of  the  latter,  it  was  plain  to  the  girl, 
had  become  strongly  excited,  and  she  began  to  feel 
certain  that  he  would  not  leave  the  omnibus,  nor 
permit  her  to  do  so,  without  penetrating  the  mys 
tery  of  her  sleeping  companion.  With  stealthy 
glances  she  examined  his  face,  in  order  to  gain  such 
limited  knowledge  of  his  character  as  was  possible 
under  the  circumstances.  Her  impression  was 
favorable. 

At  last  the  stage  reached  the  Exchange,  and 
Adele  was  yet  undetermined  what  to  do  or  which 
way  to  go.  The  possession  of  an  insensible  child 
in  such  a  public  place  would  at  once  attract  notice, 
and  probably  draw  around  her  an  excited  and  mis 
judging  crowd.  Fear  was  intruding  upon  her 
heart. 

The  old  gentleman  stepped  forward  to  pay  his 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        221 


fare,  and  stood  just  above  her,  looking  down  upon 
her  face  and  at  the  child. 

"Is  that  little  girl  asleep?"  he  asked.  The  voice 
was  kind,  and  the  tones  assured  the  heart  of  Adele. 

"Yes,  sir,"  she  answered,  timidly. 

The  old  man  stooped  and  laid  his  hand  upon  the 
child.  Adele  bent  forward  as  if  to  prevent  the 
closer  scrutiny  he  evidently  wished  to  make;  but 
he  grasped  the  sleeper  firmly  and  turned  her  face  to 
the  light.  An  exclamation  of  surprise  fell  from  his 
lips,  and  he  sat  down,  drawing,  as  he  did  so,  with 
resolute  hands,  the  child  from  Adele's  arms. 

"Girl,  how  came  this  child  in  your  possession?" 
he  said,  sternly. 

"Oh,  sir!"  exclaimed  Adele,  with  eagerness,  "do 
you  know  to  whom  she  belongs  ?" 

"Maddy!  Maddy!  Wake  up,  dear !  Wake  up  !" 
said  the  old  man,  turning  from  the  girl  without 
replying.  ""What  ails  her?  "What  is  the  mean 
ing  of  this  strange  sleep?"  He  addressed  Adele 
again. 

"If  she  belongs  to  you  or  yours,"  said  Adele, 
"take  her  home  as  quickly  as  possible.  I  have  done 
my  part  in  rescuing  the  dove  from  the  hawk, — the 
lamb  from  the  wolf." 

Uncle  John  Fleetwood,  whom  the  reader  has  re 
cognised,  needed  no  further  prompting.  He  had 

19* 


222        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


a  carriage  called  quietly,  and,  taking  into  it  both 
Adele  and  his  recovered  niece,  was  driven  rapidly 
to  the  residence  of  Mr.  Dainty.  On  the  way  he 
gained  such  information  as  Adele  permitted  him  to 
glean.  It  was  not  by  any  means  satisfactory. 


THE   ANQEL  AND   THE   DEMON.  223 


CHAPTER  TXT. 

THE  ARREST. 

"FOUND!  Found!"  The  words  rang  through 
the  house  as  Uncle  John  entered,  bearing  Madeline 
in  his  arms.  Her  rescuer  followed  with  noiseless 
footsteps  and  gliding  motions. 

Responsive  cries  of  joy  and  the  noise  of  rapid  feet 
were  heard  from  all  parts  of  Mr.  Dainty's  dwelling ; 
and  by  the  time  Mr.  Fleetwood  reached  the  mother's 
room  an  eager  crowd  surrounded  him.  Tenderly 
laying  Madeline  upon  the  bed,  he  exposed  her  pale, 
sad-looking  countenance  to  view,  the  sight  of  which 
flooded  every  face  with  tears. 

"Where  is  the  girl?"  he  asked,  imperatively. 

"I  am  here."    And  Adele  moved  toward  the  bed 

"What  is  the  meaning  of  this?"  he  demanded. 
"What  ails  our  precious  darling?" 

"The  sleep  is  mesmeric,"  answered  Adele,  in  her 
low,  musical  voice. 

"Mesmeric!"  ejaculated  Mr.  Fleetwood. 

"Mesmeric!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Dainty,  in  anger. 
"Who  has  dared  to  do  this?" 


224        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"It  was  Mrs.  Fordham,"  replied  Adele. 

"Who  is  Mrs.  Fordham?" 

"The  woman  for  whom  you  were  in  search,"  said 
Adele,  turning  to  Florence  Harper,  whom  she  had 
^ecognised. 

"Mrs.  Jeckyl !"  said  Florence. 

"Devil!"  almost  thundered  Mr.  Fleetwood. 

"How  is  this  spell  to  be  broken?"  asked  Flo 
rence,  coming  up  to  Adele  and  grasping  her  arm 
tightly. 

"No  one  can  break  it  but  Mrs.  Fordham.  She 
has  locked  up  her  senses,  and  she  alone  can  open 
them." 

"Cannot  you  do  it?"  Florence  asked,  eagerly. 

"No,"  was  answered,  almost  mournfully. 

"Try." 

"  It  is  useless."    And  the  girl  shook  her  head. 

"Did  you  see  it  done?"  now  asked  Mr.  Fleet- 
wood,  turning  from  the  bed  where  he  had  been 
vainly  trying  to  arouse  Madeline  to  consciousness. 

"No,  sir.  She  was  alone  with  the  poor  little 
thing." 

"You  have  seen  children  put  to  sleep?"  Mr, 
Fleetwood  asked  the  question. 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir.     Often." 

"And  you've  seen  them  wakened  ?" 

"Yes,  sir." 


THE  ANQEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         225 


"Do  as  you  have  seen  it  done,  and  wake  this 
child  if  possible." 

Adele  moved  forward  timidly,  and,  with  evident 
strong  reluctance,  and  standing  over  Madeline,  com 
menced  making  passes  with  her  hands,  beginning 
at  the  breast  and  moving  them  upward  over  her 
face.  The  motions  were  slow  at  first,  but  increased 
in  quickness.  This  was  continued  for  two  or  three 
minutes,  but  without  apparent  effect. 

"It  is  of  no  use,"  said  the  girl,  stopping  suddenly, 
and  as  if  in  despair.  "  I  have  no  power.  The  hand 
that  has  been  at  work  here  is  stronger  than  mine. 
You  must  get  Mrs.  Fordham." 

"Where  is  she?" 

"At  my  mother's  house." 

"Where  does  your  mother  live  ?" 

"She  knows."  And  Adele  looked  toward  Flo 
rence. 

"Take  Florence  in  the  carriage,"  said  Uncle  John, 
speaking  to  Mr.  Dainty,  "  and  go  with  her  to  one  of 
the  police-stations  and  get  an  officer.  Then  drive 
with  lightning  speed  to  the  house  where  the  girl's 
mother  lives,  and  have  Mrs.  Jeckyl  arrested  and 
brought  here." 

"Come."  Mr.  Dainty  spoke  to  Florence,  who 
went  hurriedly  from  the  room,  and  made  herself 
ready  in  the  quickest  possible  time. 


226         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"Will  you  go  ?"  she  spoke  to  Adele,  appearing  in 
a  few  moments,  ready  to  accompany  Mr.  Dainty. 

"No,"  was  the  quiet  answer.  "It  can  do  you  no 
good ;  and  harm  may  come  of  it  to  me." 

The  carriage  which  had  brought  Mr.  Fleetwood 
and  Adele  from  the  Exchange  was  still  at  the  door. 
Into  this  Mr.  Dainty,  after  giving  his  orders  to  the 
driver,  entered  with  Florence.  At  the  nearest 
police-station  they  obtained  an  officer,  duly  in 
structed  to  arrest  Mrs.  Jeckyl  if  she  could  be  found, 
and  then  swept  rapidly  off  toward  the  northern 
part  of  the  city.  In  returning  from  her  previous 
visit  to  the  house  of  Mrs.  "Weir,  Florence  had  par 
ticularly  noted  the  names  of  streets  and  numbers 
of  houses,  so  that  she  had  no  difficulty  in  giving 
the  directions  needed. 

"This  is  the  house,"  she  said,  at  last,  and  the 
officer  signed  to  the  driver  to  rein  up  his  horses. 
As  when  Florence  paid  her  first  visit,  there  was  not 
a  sign  of  life  about  the  dwelling.  All  the  window- 
shutters  were  closed,  and  the  dust  lay  thick  upon 
the  sills  and  door-steps.  Grass  sprung  in  little 
green  tufts  from  between  the  bricks  on  the  pave 
ment,  while  small  mounds  of  dirt  had  grown,  by 
daily  light  secretions,  in  the  corners  where  the 
walls  of  the  house  and  door-steps  came  in  contact. 

"No   one   lives   here,"    said   Mr.  Dainty,  as   he 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        227 


looked  up  at  the  dwelling  and  noted  the  many 
signs  of  desertion. 

"It  is  the  house  in  which  I  saw  that  girl,"  replied 
Florence. 

The  officer  had  already  rung  the  bell.  He  was 
lifting  his  hand  to  ring  a  second  time,  when  the 
door  was  opened  cautiously,  and  the  singularly 
striking  face  of  Mrs.  Weir  presented  itself.  On 
seeing  Florence,  whom  she  instantly  recognised, 
she  made  a  movement  to  shut  the  door  quickly 
upon  her  visitors ;  but  this  the  strong  hand  of  the 
officer  prevented.  As  he  pushed  it  wide  open,  Mrs. 
Weir  turned  and  ran  back  along  the  passage. 

"  She  will  give  the  alarm,  and  the  woman  may 
escape,"  said  Florence,  quickly. 

At  this  hint  the  officer  sprung  forward,  and, 
grasping  her  arm  tightly,  arrested  her  progress  at 
the  bottom  of  the  stairway.  Mrs.  "Weir  turned  in 
stantly,  and  fixed  her  black,  glittering  eyes  upon 
him. 

"What  is  the  meaning  of  this  outrage?"  she  de 
manded,  in  a  steady  voice. 

"No  outrage  is  intended,  madam,"  said  Mr. 
Dainty,  coming  forward.  "We  are  in  search  of  a 
woman  named  Fordham,  who  is,  as  we  are  in 
formed,  in  your  house." 

"  She  is  not  here,"  was  the  firm  answer. 


228        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"Where  can  we  find  her?"  he  asked,  in  a  disap 
pointed  voice. 

"  I  know  not.  She  comes  and  goes  as  the  wind ; 
and  no  questions  are  asked  as  to  her  coming  or 
going." 

"  Step  into  this  room,"  said  the  officer,  motioning 
to  one  of  the  parlor-doors.  Mrs.  Weir  obeyed,  and 
Mr.  Dainty  and  Florence  went  in  with  her.  Quick 
glances  were  thrown  around  the  apartments,  but 
they  had  no  other  inmates. 

"  Remain  here,"  said  the  officer.  "  I  will  search 
the  house.  You  stand  by  the  door,  sir,  and  do  not 
permit  any  one  to  pass  to  the  street." 

Mrs.  Weir  made  various  signs  of  rebellion ;  but 
the  officer  warned  her  to  be  quiet,  or  he  would  have 
her  taken  to  the  police-station.  This  threat  really 
frightened  her,  and  she  sunk  down,  almost  nerve 
less,  upon  a  chair. 

"Be  quick,"  said  Mr.  Dainty,  speaking  to  the 
officer.  "  The  woman  is  tall,  with  a  thin,  sallow, 
evil  face,  and  dark,  wicked  eyes.  You  can  make 
no  mistake." 

The  officer  left  the  room.  It  was  nearly  ten 
minutes  before  he  came  back. 

"  She  is  not  in  the  house,"  he  said,  "  and  I  fear 
has  escaped,  as  I  find  an  outlet  in  the  rear,  leading 
through  a  court,  into  another  street." 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         229 


"I  told  you  that  she  was  not  here,"  said  the  wo 
man,  a  gleam  of  triumph  shooting  from  her  eyes, 
and  her  manner  exhibiting  relief. 

"  She  must  be  found !"  Mr.  Dainty  spoke  with 
agitation.  "  We  are  on  her  track,  and  only  need  to 
persevere.  This  is  one  of  her  haunts;  and  to  this 
house  my  poor  child  was  brought." 

"  She  will  in  all  probability  return  here,"  said  the 
officer,  "  if  what  this  woman  states  is  true.  But  if 
she  were  really  in  the  house  at  the  time  of  our 
arrival,  and  made  her  escape  out  through  the  alley 
and  court  I  have  mentioned,  we  shall  have  to 
search  for  her  in  another  direction.  My  advice  is 
to  send  the  carriage  out  of  the  neighborhood.  If 
the  woman  should  come  back  and  see  it  standing 
before  the  door,  she  will  take  the  alarm,  and  not 
enter." 

"Your  suggestion  is  good,"  remarked  Mr. 
Dainty.  "I  will  order  the  carriage  around  the 
square.  The  driver  can  wait  for  us  in  the  next 
street."  And  he  went  to  the  door  and  gave  direc 
tions  accordingly.  Returning,  Mr.  Dainty  said  to 
the  officer, — 

"  Shall  we  all  remain  here,  or  will  you  go  for  ad 
ditional  aid,  so  as  to  extend  the  search?" 

"I  think,"   replied  the   officer,    "that,   as  this 

woman  is  fully  implicated  in  a  very  serious  crime, 

20 


230         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


I  had  better  take  her  to  the  police-station.  She  is 
evidently  a  participant  in  the  business,  and  shows 
great  anxiety  about  the  escape  of  her  accom 
plice." 

Mrs.  "Weir's  sallow  face  changed  to  a  more  ashen 
hue  at  this  suggestion. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  added  the  officer,  speaking  for 
effect,  "  that  bail,  under  the  circumstances,  will  be 
accepted.  She  will  no  doubt  be  imprisoned  until 
all  parties  in  this  most  horrible  outrage  are  dis 
covered.  Her  evidence  in  the  case  will  be  of  too 
much  importance  for  risk  of  absence,  even  under 
bail,  to  be  taken." 

"Indeed,  gentlemen,"  said  Mrs.  "Weir,  now 
thoroughly  frightened,  "  I  am  innocent  in  this 
matter.  Mrs.  Fordham,  who  brought  the  child 
here,  is  an  entire  stranger.  I  never  saw  her  until 
very  recently." 

"Where  is  she  now?  How  can  we  trace  her?" 
demanded  the  officer. 

"I  know  not.  She  went  as  she  came,  and  I  asked 
no  questions." 

"More  the  fool  for  that!"  said  the  officer,  coarsely. 
"  But  I  am  afraid  there  is  as  much  of  the  knave  as 
the  fool  in  the  present  case.  .Right  kind  of  people 
are  not  in  the  habit  of  letting  suspicious  old  women, 
and  total  strangers  at  that,  come  into  their  houses 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        231 


and  depart  at  will,  yet  asking  no  questions.  The 
story  isn't  probable,  madam." 

"  But  true,  for  all,"  answered  Mrs.  Weir.  "  It  is 
just  as  I  have  said.  Mrs.  Fordham  came  and  went, 
and  I  asked  no  questions." 

"And  why  not?" 

"Because  I— I " 

The  woman  hesitated. 

"  Say  on." 

"We  are  commanded  not  to  cast  pearls  before 
swine,"  she  replied,  with  sudden  spirit;  "and  I  shall 
not  cast  down  things  precious  to  be  trampled  under 
your  feet." 

"  You've  got  some  spice  in  you,  I  see,"  returned 
the  officer,  a  little  amused.  "  People  in  your  trade 
generally  have.  It  requires  a  full  portion  to  carry 
them  through." 

The  woman's  face  flushed  as  she  said, — 

"Explain  yourself,  sir!  What  do  you  mean  by 
•my  trade?" 

"  Oh,  that  of  harboring  child-stealing  vagabonds 
and  the  like!  This  seems  to  have  been  your  last 
occupation.  But  I  am  not  here  to  bandy  sharp 
words.  My  business  is  to  find  Mrs.  Fordham.  If 
you  can  direct  me  to  the  place  where  she  now  is, 
well ;  if  not,  I  must  arrest  you,  and  you  will  be  held 
in  custody  until  she  is  produced, — perhaps  longer." 


232        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


The  woman's  face  turned  pale  again. 

At  this  moment  the  bell  rung.  Mrs.  Weir  stalled 
up  and  was  moving  toward  the  door. 

"Excuse  me,  madam,"  said  the  officer,  laying 
his  hand  upon  her  arm;  "but  I  will  attend  the 
door." 

And  he  drew  her  firmly  back.  She  made  a 
slight  resistance,  but  the  officer  held  her  tightly  for 
an  instant. 

"  Take  her  in  charge,  if  you  please,"  he 
said  to  Mr.  Dainty,  "while  I  see  after  this 
visitor." 

Mr.  Dainty  did  not  hesitate.  Grasping  her  arm, 
he  said,  sternly, — 

"Let  us  have  no  trifling!  This  business  may  cost 
you  dear.  Complicity  in  crime  is  no  light  matter,  I 
can  tell  you." 

The  officer  was  now  at  the  street-door.  As  he 
opened  it,  a  tall  woman  in  black,  answering  in  all 
respects  to  the  description  of  Mrs.  Fordham,  stood 
ready  to  enter. 

""Walk  in,  madam,"  he  said. 

But  she  stood  still,  with  her  keen  eyes  reading 
every  lineament  of  his  face.  She  was  not  satisfied 
with  its  expression. 

"Walk  in,"  repeated  the  officer. 

"  No,  I  thank  you.     Please  say  to  Mrs.  Weir  that 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         233 


Mrs.  Fordham  would  like  to  see  her  at  tlie  door  for 
a  moment." 

"Mrs.  "Weir  is  engaged,"  was  the  officer's 
reply. 

"Has  her  daughter  returned?"  queried  Mrs 
Fordham. 

"Yes." 

"Ask  her  to  step  here." 

By  this  time  Mrs.  Fordham  had  retreated  a  little, 
and  the  officer,  seeing  that  she  was  about  descend 
ing  the  steps,  moved  suddenly  forward,  and,  throw 
ing  one  arm  around  her  waist,  drew  her  with  a 
sudden  jerk  into  the  passage  and  shut  the  door. 
The  movement  was  so  quick,  and  so  unexpected, 
that  the  woman  was  taken  entirely  off  of  her 
guard. 

"You  are  arrested  for  child-stealing!"  said  the 
officer,  ere  she  had  recovered  from  her  surprise. 

"  It  is  Mrs.  Jeckyl !"  exclaimed  Florence,  appear 
ing  at  the  parlor-door. 

"  Mrs.  Jeckyl !  Oh,  wretch !  wretch !"  said  Mr 
Dainty,  who  had  released  Mrs.  "Weir,  and  now  con 
fronted  the  thoroughly-alarmed  woman,  who,  seeing 
herself  completely  in  the  power  of  these  two  men, 
gave  up  without  a  struggle. 

"  Shall  I  go  for  the  carriage?"  said  the  officer. 

"Yes,   immediately.      But,    stay!     let   me   call 

20* 


234         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


the  carriage,  while  you  hold  your  prisoner  in 
charge." 

"  "What  are  you  going  to  do  ?"  demanded  Mrs. 
Jeckyl,  with  regaining  self-possession,  as  Mr.  Dainty 
'eft  the  house. 

"  My  business,"  replied  the  officer,  "  is  to  make 
this  arrest.  What  follows  will  depend  on  the  cha 
racter  of  evidence  which  may  be  produced  against 
you." 

"At  whose  instance  is  the  arrest  made?" 

"  At  the  instance  of  Mr.  Dainty,  whose  child  you 
abducted." 

"  I  must  know  your  authority !"  The  woman  was 
growing  bolder. 

The  officer  merely  took  a  metal  star  from  his 
pocket  and  fastened  it  against  his  breast. 

The  effect  was  instantaneous.  The  woman's  eye 
quailed  beneath  his  steady  gaze. 

"  Come,"  said  the  officer,  as  the  carriage  was 
heard  rattling  to  the  door.  She  hesitated,  but 
moved  as  she  saw  his  hand  rising  to  grasp  her 
arm. 

"  Do  you  wish  the  other  woman  arrested, 
also?"  inquired  the  officer,  on  meeting  Mr. 
Dainty  at  the  door.  "  She  is  without  doubt  an 
accomplice." 

"I    only    want    this    woman    now,"    said    Mr. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


Dainty.     "  If  the  other  is  needed  we  can  send  for 
her." 

"  But  will  hardly  find  her,"  muttered  the  officer. 
Mr.  Dainty  did  not  heed  the  remark.  He  was  too 
eager  to  have  Mrs.  Jeckyl  conveyed  to  his  dwelling 
to  pause  on  any  other  considerations.  Entering  the 
carriage  with  Mrs.  Jeckyl,  Florence,  and  the  officer, 
he  ordered  the  driver  to  take  them  to  his  residence 
in  the  quickest  possible  time.  Heeding  the  injunc 
tion,  the  driver  put  the  whip  upon  his  horses,  and 
dashed  rapidly  away. 


236         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


CHAPTER  XXTT. 

BREAKING   THE   SPELL. 

IT  was  more  than  an  hour  from  the  time  Mr. 
Dainty  and  Florence  left  to  go  in  search  of  Mrs. 
Jeckyl,  before  they  returned,  bringing  the  woman 
with  them.  During  all  that  period  not  a  sign  of 
life,  beyond  a  feeble  heart-beat,  did  Madeline  exhibit. 
Mrs.  Dainty  was  almost  wild  with  distress,  and  sat 
over  her  child,  weeping  and  wringing  her  hands. 
Agnes  was  calmer,  but  in  deep  grief;  while  Uncle 
John  moved  about  the  chamber  in  which  Madeline 
lay,  as  restless  as  an  unshrived  ghost.  Adele  sat  by 
the  bedside,  her  face  bent  down,  and  hidden  from 
view.  Occasionally  Uncle  John  or  Mr.  Dainty 
would  ask  her  a  question.  Then  she  would  look 
up,  exhibiting  a  pale  countenance,  and  answer  in  a 
low  voice  that  was  touchingly  sad. 

Many  times  had  both  the  mother  and  Mr.  Fleet- 
wood  renewed  their  efforts  to  break  the  fearful 
spell  that  lay  upon  the  unconscious  child.  An 
age  of  suspense  they  endured  until  Mr.  Dainty's 
return. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        237 


At  last  a  carriage  was  heard  at  the  door.  Uncle 
John  went  to  the  window. 

"They  have  come!"  he  said,  greatly  excited,  as 
he  saw  Mr.  Dainty  step  to  the  pavement.  "  There 
is  an  officer!"  he  added.  "And  there  is  Mrs. 
Jeckyl!  Oh,  the  wretch!  yet  how  glad  I  am  to 
see  her !" 

Breathless  expectation  followed.  Adele  arose 
from  her  place  by  the  bedside,  and  shrunk  away 
into  a  remote  part  of  the  room ;  while  Agnes  came 
nearer  to  Madeline,  and  laid  her  hand  upon  her. 
The  mingled  sounds  of  voices  and  footsteps  were 
heard  along  the  passage  and  on  the  stairs,  and 
then  the  chamberdoor  opened,  and  Mr.  Dainty  en 
tered,  followed  by  Mrs.  Jeckyl,  the  officer,  and 
Florence. 

On  the  stern  face  of  the  woman  sat  a  dark,  defiant 
scowl.  She  looked  at  Mrs.  Dainty,  at  Agnes,  and 
at  Uncle  John,  with  unflinching  eyes,  but  did  not 
speak.  Quick  glances  were  then  thrown  about 
the  room,  and  Adele,  half  hidden  by  one  of  the 
window-curtains,  was  only  partially  seen,  but  not 
recognised. 

"  For  what  purpose  am  I  here  ?"  she  asked,  look 
ing  at  Mr.  Dainty. 

"Simply  to  undo  your  evil  work,"  he  replied. 
"You  see  that  child?"  and  he  pointed  to  the  bed. 


238         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


Mrs.  Jeckyl  turned  her  eyes  upon  the  form  of 
Madeline,  though  scarcely  moving  her  head. 

"  "Well,  what  of  her  ?"  she  spoke,  very  coldly. 

"She  lies  there  wholly  insensible,  as  you  can 
see." 

"I  am  not  a  physician,"  the  woman  retorted, 
with  a  sneer.  "Why  don't  you  send  for  your 
doctor?" 

"  Right  for  once !"  said  Uncle  John.  "  "Why  waa 
not  that  thought  of  before  ?"  And  he  went  quickly 
from  the  room,  and  gave  direction  to  one  of  the 
servants  to  go  with  all  possible  speed  for  the 
doctor. 

"  This  is  your  work,  as  we  are  told,"  Mr.  Dainty 
replied,  in  answer  to  Mrs.  Jeckyl's  remark.  "  And 
you  are  here  to  unbind  what  you  have  bound. 
And  I  pray  you,  in  Heaven's  name,  to  do  it 
speedily !" 

Mrs.  Jeckyl  laughed  a  low,  gurgling,  malignant 
laugh. 

"You  give  me  credit  for  more  than  I  claim,*' 
said  she.  "  I  know  nothing  of  your  child.  If  she 
is  sick,  call  in  your  physician,  as  I  have  already 
suggested." 

At  this  moment  there  was  a  sudden  rustling  of 
the  window-curtain,  and  Adele  came  forward  into 
the  room,  her  eyes  fixed  steadily  on  the  face  of 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        239 


Mrs.  Jeckyl,  and  her  young  lips  compressed  and 
resolute. 

"You  do  know  something  of  the  child."  She 
spoke  out  boldly.  "For  you  brought  her  to  my 
mother's  house.  Her  present  condition  is  the  work 
of  your  hands,  and  you  can  restore  her  in  a  moment 
if  you  will." 

Mrs.  Jeckyl's  countenance  grew  almost  livid  with 
rage ;  and  she  glared  at  Adele,  as  if  seeking  to  blast 
her  with  her  burning  eyes.  But  the  young  girl 
stood  without  a  quailing  glance,  and  looked  up 
steadily  into  her  face. 

"It  is  as  I  say,  and  you  know  it."  There  was  no 
sign  of  fear  or  embarrassment  in  the  voice  of  the 
brave  young  girl. 

"  Then  act  quickly !"  said  Mr.  Dainty. 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Jeckyl,  help  us  if  you  can !  Break  the 
spell  that  rests  on  our  dear  child!"  Mrs.  Dainty 
clasped  her  hands  and  spoke  imploringly. 

But  the  woman  stirred  not  from  the  place  where 
she  stood. 

"  She  can  do  it  if  she  will."  It  was  Adele  who 
spoke,  and  her  voice  was  clear  and  confident. 

Mrs.  Jeckyl  again  scowled  upon  her,  like  a  wild 
animal  at  bay. 

"  I  have  sent  for  the  doctor,"  said  Mr.  Fleetwood, 
returning  to  the  room  where  the  excited  family 


240        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


stood  hovering  around  the  bed  on  which  Madeline 
lay.  "We  were  simpletons  not  to  have  done  this 
before.  My  faith  is  stronger  in  him  than  in  this 
impostor.  It  will  be  found,  I  think,  that  Madeline's 
unnatural  sleep  is  the  effect  of  some  drug,  or  of 
fright,  or  injury." 

A  grim  smile  parted  the  lips  of  Mrs.  Jeckyl. 

"  She  can  bring  her  to  in  a  moment,  if  she  will," 
persisted  Adele.  "  I've  seen  such  things  done 
many,  many  times." 

"No  one  asked  you  for  information,"  said  Mrs. 
Jeckyl,  turning  in  an  excited  manner  toward  the  girl. 

"This  is  mere  trifling,"  spoke  out  the  police- 
officer,  sternly,  and  he  advanced  to  the  side  of  Mrs. 
Jeckyl.  "  Why  was  she  brought  here  ?"  And  he 
looked  toward  Mr.  Dainty. 

"  To  remove  from  this  child  the  spell  she  has 
cast  upon  her  through  some  infernal  art." 

"  So  I  understood.  Very  well,  madam,  let  it  be 
done  at  once." 

Mrs.  Jeckyl  stood,  in  evident  debate  with  herself, 
for  some  moments. 

"  If  I  do  as  you  desire,  what  then  ?"  She  ad 
dressed  Mr.  Dainty. 

"Quick!  quick!  Mrs.  Jeckyl!"  now  broke  in 
Mrs.  Dainty.  "  Oh,  save  my  child  !  She  will  die ! 
Break  this  terrible  sleep  !" 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        241 


"I  will  do  it  only  on  one  condition,"  said  the 
woman. 

"Name  it,"  replied  Mr.  Dainty. 

"  I  am  now  in  the  hands  of  an  officer  ?" 

"  You  are ;  and  arrested  on  the  serious  charge  of 
child-stealing." 

"The  condition  is  this:  that  I  be  permitted  to 
leave  your  house,  and  that  no  effort  be  made  to 
arrest  me  after  my  departure." 

"  Make  no  conditions  with  her,"  spoke  out  Mr. 
Fleetwood. 

"As  you  like,"  answered  the  woman,  coldly. 

"  I  am  not  sure  that  I  can  make  conditions  now," 
said  Mr.  Dainty.  "  You  are  already  in  the  hands 
of  the  law." 

"Then  I  will  not  touch  your  child.  She  may 
sleep  until  the  day  of  doom,  for  me  !  And  she  will 
sleep  until  I  choose  to  awaken  her." 

"  Wretch !  Fiend !  Devil !"  ejaculated  Uncle  John, 
moving  about  the  room,  greatly  excited. 

"  Thank  you !"  said  Mrs.  Jeckyl,  with  a  quiet 
sneer. 

Mr.  Dainty  now  drew  the  police-officer  aside,  and 
held  a  low,  hurried  conversation  with  him. 

"  Restore  this  child,  if  it  is  in  your  power  to  do 
so,"  said  the  latter,  turning  from  Mr.  Dainty  and 

approaching  Mrs.  Jeckyl. 
Q  21 


242        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"Only  on  the  terms  I  have  stated,"  replied  the 
woman,  resolutely. 

"  I  will  suffer  you  to  depart  from  here  alone." 

"That  will  not  do.  I  must  have  an  honorable 
pledge  that  no  attempt  will  be  made  to  arrest  me 
after  I  leave." 

"  I  shall  make  no  attempt,  but  simply  report  what 
has  been  done,"  said  the  officer.  "If  the  Chief  of 
Police  again  issues  orders  for  your  arrest,  they  will 
be  obeyed." 

The  woman  thought  for  some  moments. 

"I  may  depart  at  will?"  she  said,  looking  from 
the  officer  to  Mr.  Dainty. 

"  Yes."    Both  replied. 

She  moved  to  the  bedside,  uncovered  the  face  of 
Madeline,  and  stood  for  nearly  a  minute  gazing 
down  upon  it.  All  was  still  as  death  in  the  room, 
and  hearts  beat  in  muffled  measure.  Repressed 
excitement  was  intense.  Then  the  woman  laid  her 
hands  upon  the  child's  temples,  and  held  them  there 
almost  a  minute  longer,  then  took  both  of  her 
hands  and  clasped  them  within  her  own,  seemingly 
to  impart  the  warmth  of  her  own  body.  After  that 
she  began  a  few  slow,  upward  passes,  which  were 
gradually  increased  in  rapidity.  A  slight  convulsive 
start  was  the  first  sign  of  returning  animation ;  a 
shudder  next  ran  through  the  child's  frame ;  then 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         243 


she  moaned  plaintively.  The  anxious  group,  now 
bending  around  the  bed,  held  their  breaths.  Mrs. 
Dainty  was  close  beside  Mrs.  Jeckyl,  and  the  face 
of  Florence  Harper  hung  over  Madeline,  a  little 
way  from  that  of  the  necromancer.  !N"ow  there 
came  the  flush  of  quickening  pulses  into  the  child's 
face;  now  its  expression  began  changing  to  one 
more  pleasant  to  look  upon;  now  a  feeble  smile 
played  around  the  arching  lips;  and  now  the  lids 
unclosed,  opening  slowly,  as  if  just  overcoming  the 
pressure  of  a  sweet  slumber,  and  revealing  the 
bright  blue  eyes  beneath. 

At  this  instant  the  face  of  Mrs.  Jeckyl  was  with 
drawn. 

"Mother!  Oh,  mother!  Dear  mother!"  said 
Madeline,  stretching  up  her  arms  and  clasping  the 
neck  of  Mrs.  Dainty,  who  in  turn  threw  her  arms 
around  the  child,  caressing  her  in  the  wildest  man 
ner,  and  almost  devouring  her  with  kisses. 

"Be  calm,  Madeline,  for  Heaven's  sake!"  whis 
pered  Uncle  John  in  the  ears  of  his  niece. 

"Oh,  I  have  had  such  a  terrible  dream!"  said 
Madeline,  sobbing,  her  face  still  hidden  in  her 
mother's  bosom. 

"All  leave  the  room  but  Florence  and  her 
mother,"  said  Mr.  Fleetwood,  in  a  whisper.  "This 
crowd  will  only  excite  her  mind.  If  she  thinks 


244        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


it    all    a    dream    for   the    present,    so    much    the 
better." 

Acting  on  this  hint,  all  retired  but  Florence  and 
Mrs.  Dainty.  Mrs.  Jeckyl  was  not  with  them.  She 
had  already  glided  from  the  chamber,  passed  down 
the  stairs,  and  was  now  hurrying  away  from  the 
house  with  footsteps  quickened  by  fear.  The  officer 
kept  his  word,  and  permitted  her  to  escape. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        245 


CHAPTER 

THE  ANGEL  STRONGER  THAN  THE  DEMON. 

"I  HAVE  wronged  you,  Miss  Harper,"  whispered 
Mrs.  Dainty. 

It  cost  the  weak,  proud  woman  an  effort  to  make 
this  acknowledgment.  But  Madeline's  arms  were 
around  both  of  their  necks,  and  the  child  was  cling 
ing  to  both  with  a  half-trembling  eagerness.  This 
confession  made  all  the  rest  easy. 

"Return  to  us,"  she  added,  "and  be  to  my  chil 
dren  what  you  once  were." 

"Do  come  back  again!"  It  was  the  pleading 
voice  of  Madeline.  "  Oh,  I  wish  you  had  never 
gone  away !" 

Florence  felt  a  shudder  run  through  the  child's 
body,  as  if  some  fearful  image  had  been  presented 
to  her  mind. 

"Say  you  will  come  back,  and  take  your  old 
place,  Miss  Harper,"  urged  Mrs.  Dainty. 

The  arm  of  Madeline  which  was  around  her 
mother's  neck  withdrew  itself  and  joined  the  arm 
that  circled  the  neck  of  Florence. 

21* 


246         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"  Say  yes !  Do  say  yes,  Miss  Harper !"  And  the 
child's  clasping  arms  were  drawn  very  tightly. 

"Yes,"  said  Florence,  as  she  kissed  the  child. 

"  Oh !  I  am  so  glad !  So  glad !"  cried  Madeline, 
overcome  with  joy  at  this  concession.  "If  you  had 
never  gone  away!" 

"We  will  be  friends,"  said  Mrs.  Dainty,  taking 
the  hand  of  Florence  Harper  and  pressing  it 
warmly.  "I  did  not  understand  you  before.  But 
I  see  clearer  to-day." 

"Let  the  past  be  forgotten,"  answered  Florence. 
"  All  are  liable  to  misconception.  I  was  faithful  to 
your  children ;  and  I  will  be  so  again." 

Then,  whispering  into  the  ears  of  Mrs.  Dainty, 
she  added, — 

"I  fear  we  are  exciting  Madeline  beyond  what  is 
prudent." 

"You  are  right,"  answered  the  mother.  "We 
are  forgetting  ourselves." 

Madeline  was  still  on  the  bed.  Gently  dis 
engaging  the  arms  that  were  around  her  neck, 
Florence  looked  smilingly  into  the  face  of  Made 
line,  and  said,  in  a  cheerful  tone, — 

"  Come,  Maddy  dear !  you're  wide  enough  awake 
now,  after  a  long  sleep." 

"How  long  have  I  been  asleep  ?"  the  child  asked, 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


curiously,  glancing,  as  she  spoke,  toward  the  win 
dows.  "  Is  it  morning  ? 

"  No :  the  day  is  nearly  done.  It  lacks  scarcely 
an  hour  to  sunset." 

"Is  it  so  late?"  Madeline  looked  serious,  and 
her  face  passed  from  transient  light  into  shadow. 

"  Yes.  You  have  slept  a  long  time.  But  come, 
dear,  you  must  get  dressed  for  tea." 

Madeline  looked  up  at  Miss  Harper  with  a  kind 
of  vague  wonder  in  her  countenance,  and  then  let 
her  eyes  wander  slowly  about  the  room,  as  if  search 
ing  for  some  person  or  object. 

"  Haven't  I  been  away  from  here,  Miss  Harper  ?" 
she  inquired,  looking  at  Florence. 

""Why  do  you  ask  that  question  ?" 

"I'm  sure  it  isn't  all  just  a  dream.  That  Mrs. 
Jeckyl!  Oh,  dear!  I  feel  so  strangely!"  And 
Madeline  laid  her  hand  upon  her  breast. 

"Don't  think  of  any  thing,  dear,  but  the  happy 
present,"  said  Florence,  smiling  into  the  little  girl's 
face. 

But  the  eyes  of  Madeline  were  filling  with  tears, 
and  their  expression  had  become  very  sad. 

"Oh,  it  was  so  dreadful !." 

"What  was  dreadful,  Maddy?"  her  mother 
asked. 

"I  don't  know,"  she  answered,  in  a  bewildered 


248        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


manner.     "I  saw  it  all  just  now;  and  now  it's  gone 
again." 

"What  is  gone,  love?" 

"I  thought  she  was  going  to  kill  me."  The  child 
spoke  as  if  to  herself. 

"Who,  Maddy?" 

"  It  was  Mrs.  Jeckyl.  She  had  me  in  a  room. 
Oh,  dear,  mother !  I  don't  know  what's  the  matter 
with  me !" 

And  the  child  shuddered,  while  an  expression  of 
almost  abject  fear  came  into  her  face. 

"You  are  safe  at  home,  my  love,"  said  Mrs. 
Dainty,  in  a  soothing  voice.  "There  is  no  Mrs. 
Jeckyl  here,  but  kind  Miss  Harper  instead.  And 
she  is  going  to  stay  with  us." 

*  That's  best  of  all,"  replied  Madeline,  partially 
recovering  herself,  and  looking  up  into  the  face  of 
Miss  Harper.  "I  was  so  sorry  when  you  went 
away  and  that  dreadful  woman  came  in  your 
place." 

"Won't  you  rise   now?"  said  Florence,   taking 

'.adeline  by  the  hand  and  drawing  her  gently 
ipwards.  The  child  yielded,  and  sat  erect  in  bed. 
Mrs.  Dainty  brought  a  frock,  and  a  change  of 
under-clothing,  and  both  she  and  Florence  busied 
themselves  in  removing  the  soiled  garments  of  Made 
line  and  replacing  them  with  such  as  were  fresh 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        249 


and  clean.  The  excitement  of  all  this  quickened 
and  diverted  her  mind.  When  fully  attired,  and 
ready  to  join  the  anxious,  expectant  family,  Florence 
said  to  her, — 

"  I  think  your  father  and  Uncle  John  are  in  the 
sitting-room.  Shall  we  go  down  ?" 

She  held  out  her  hand.  Madeline  drew  back  for 
a  moment. 

"Come,  dear?"  Florence  spoke  cheerily.  "I 
know  Uncle  John  wants  to  see  his  pet." 

Madeline  took  the  hand  of  Miss  Harper,  who  led 
her  down-stairs  and  into  the  sitting-room.  Mr. 
Dainty,  old  Mr.  Fleetwood,  Agnes,  and  little  George 
were  there.  Miss  Harper  gave  each  a  warning 
glance,  which  was  understood. 

"Wide  awake,  pet?"  said  Uncle  John,  in  a  cheer 
ful,  affectionate  voice.  "What  a  nice  long  sleep 
you  have  had !" 

Mr.  Dainty  and  Agnes  avoided  any  remark,  or, 
indeed,  any  exhibition  of  more  than  common 
interest.  George  ran  up  to  Madeline,  kissed  her 
lovingly,  and  drew  his  arm  around  her  waist.  But 
he  had  been  cautioned  by  his  sister,  and  so  made  no 
allusion  to  recent  exciting  events. 

"  Georgie,"  whispered  Madeline,  putting  her  lips 
close  to  her  brother's  ear,  "  Miss  Harper  is  coming 
to  live  here  again." 


250         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"Is'..%she?"  responded  the  little  boy,  with  a 
suddenly  illuminated  face. 

"Yes,  indeed.  A'n't  you,  Miss  Harper?"  And 
Madeline  looked  up  into  the  face  of  her  gover 
ness. 

"  If  you  want  me  ?"  was  the  smiling  reply. 

"  Oh,  that's  grand !"  said  George,  striking  his 
hands  together  and  jumping  a  foot  from  the  floor. 
"  Did  you  hear  that,  Uncle  John  ?" 

"Hear  what?"  asked  the  old  gentleman. 

"  Miss  Harper  is  coming  hack  again  !"  answered 
the  boy.  "  Oh,  I'm  so  glad !" 

Mr.  Fleetwood  threw  an  almost  grateful  look 
upon  Florence,  as  he  said, — 

"  You  have  friends  here,  Miss  Harper.  Children 
are  no  hypocrites." 

"  If  this  is  true,  as  I  hope  it  is,  let  me  welcome 
you  with  a  most  sincere  welcome,"  said  Mr.  Dainty, 
coming  forward  and  giving  his  hand  to  Florence. 

Mrs.  Dainty  entered  at  the  moment.  She  had 
lingered  in  the  chamber  after  Florence  left. 

"  It  is  true,"  she  spoke  out,  with  womanly  frank 
ness.  "I  have  asked  her  to  return,  and  she  has 
kindly  consented.  "We  shall  all  know  each  other 
better  in  time,  I  hope." 

The  flushed  cheeks,  drooping  eyes,  and  unsteady 
lips  of  Miss  Harper  showed  emotion,  not  triumph ; 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         251 


and  no  eye  that  then  read  her  countenance  mistook 
its  true  expression. 

Uncle  John  thanked  his  niece  with  his  eyes,  but 
said  nothing. 

"  A'n't  you  glad  ?  lam!"  And  George  danced 
about  the  room,  in  his  wild,  impulsive  way. 
"Hurrah  for  Miss  Harper,  and  death  on  Old 
Snakes !" 

Young  America  was  losing  himself. 

"  Georgie !  Georgie  ?"  Agnes  spoke  in  warning 
and  reproof.  Mr.  Dainty  raised  his  finger;  and 
Uncle  John  said,  "Hush?"  But  the  boy's  blood 
was  up,  and  he  rattled  on : — 

u  But  didn't  I  give  it  to  her  just  now  ?  Didn't 
I  make  her  mad,  though  ?  Old  Snakes  !  I  reckon 
they  heard  me  round  the  corner.  If  she  comes 
here  again,  I'll  shoot  her!  Old  rip!  Old  hag! 
Old  Snakes!" 

"  George  !  Stop  this  instant !"  said  Mr.  Dainty, 
in  a  stern  voice. 

"Was  she  here?"  asked  Madeline,  her  face  grow 
ing  suddenly  pale. 

Agnes  took  the  boy's  hand  and  led  him  away. 

"  Come  with  me  to  the  school-room,"  said  Flo 
rence,  with  sudden  animation.  "  I  wart  to  see  how 
it  looks  there."  And  she  drew  Madeline  toward 
the  door.  "We  had  some  pleasant  times  there, 


252        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


hadn't  we,  Maddy?  Do  you 'remember  the  stories 
I  used  to  tell  ?" 

They  were  already  in  the  passage. 

"Oh,  yes,  indeed!"  was  answered.  "And  they 
were  such  beautiful  stories  !" 

"Would  you  like  to  hear  another?  I  know  a 
great  many,"  said  Florence. 

"  If  you  please,  Miss  Harper.  I  always  love  to 
hear  your  stories;  they  make  me  feel  better." 

"  Oh,  it  looks  as  natural  as  can  be !"  said  Flo 
rence,  speaking  with  animation,  as  she  entered  the 
study-room.  "Here  is  my  arm-chair,  just  in  the 
old  place.  There !  I  am  in  it  again,  feeling  quite 
at  home  and  comfortable." 

"And  I  am  in  my  little  chair,  close  by  your  side, 
and  waiting  for  a  story,"  said  Madeline,  who  was 
already  feeling  the  spirit  of  her  companion  and 
true  friend  as  well  as  teacher. 

"The  story,  is  it?"  And  Florence  bent  down 
and  left  a  kiss  upon  the  sweet,  upturned  face. 
"  Yery  well :  my  promise  shall  be  kept.  Now,  let 
me  think :  what  shall  the  story  be  ?" 

Miss  Harper  lifted  her  eyes,  and  sat  thoughtful 
for  some  moments.  Then,  reaching  her  hand 
toward  a  table  that  stood  near,  she  took  up  a  Bible, 
saying,  as  she  did  so, — 

"I  used  to  read  you  some  of  the  stories  in  this 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        253 


precious  volume,  and  I  think  you  always  loved  to 
hear  them.     Shall  it  he  a  Bible  story  now?" 

Florence  was  looking  down  upon  the  face  of  her 
pupil.  Its  expression  suddenly  changed  into  one  of 
strong  repugnance,  and,  with  an  impatient  gesture 
she  said, — 

"No  !  I  don't  want  to  hear  a  Bible  story !" 

Florence  was  shocked  by  the  tone  and  manner 
of  the  child  more  than  by  her  words. 

"  Not  a  story  from  the  Divine  Book,  Maddy 
dear?"  she  said,  in  a  voice  touched  by  an  irre 
pressible  sadness.  "Oh,  you  cannot  mean  what 
you  have  said !  Angels  are  present  with  us  in  the 
holy  word ;  and  they  bring  to  our  souls  peace  and 
happiness.  Let  me  read  to  you  about  the  birth  of 
our  Saviour  in  Bethlehem." 

Miss  Harper  opened  to  the  second  chapter  of 
Matthew :  as  she  did  so,  Madeline  turned  her  head 
away.  Miss  Harper  began, — 

"Now,  when  Jesus  was  born " 

The  instant  these  words  reached  the  ears  of  Made 
line,  she  sprung  upon  the  volume  in  the  hands  of 
Miss  Harper,  and  would  have  torn  the  open  pages, 
if  she  had  not  been  prevented.  Her  countenance 
was  flushed  almost  to  congestion,  and  her  eyes 

gleamed  with  an  evil  light. 

22 


254         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"Don't  read  that!  I  won't  hear  it !  I  hate  it!' 
she  exclaimed,  passionately. 

Florence  felt  a  cold  shudder  run  through  her 
frame.  Very  still  she  sat,  and  silent,  holding  the 
hands  of  Madeline.  For  nearly  a  minute  the  hush 
as  of  death  pervaded  the  room.  Then  she  released 
the 'passive  hands  she  held,  and  laid  one  of  her  own 
upon  the  child's  head,  smoothing  the  soft  hair  with 
a  gentle  pressure. 

"  Once — it  is  not  many  years  ago — there  was  a 
dear  little  baby."  The  lips  of  Florence  were  close 
to  the  ears  of  Madeline,  her  voice  was  very  low,  the 
tones  even  and  tenderly  modulated.  "I  do  not 
think  there  was  ever  a  sweeter  baby  born  into  the 
world.  It  had  the  roundest  of  rosy  cheeks,  that 
were  softer  than  any  velvet ;  eyes  as  blue  as  spring's 
first  violets ;  and  rich  brown  hair  clustering,  in  the 
tiniest  little  curls  that  ever  were  seen,  all  over  it3 
head.  As  this  beautiful  baby  lay  in  its  mother's 
arms,  it  looked  like  a  cherub  more  than  like  an 
earth-born  baby." 

Florence  paused,  for  Madeline  had  placed  both 
hands  over  her  ears,  so  that  not  a  word  could  reach 
the  sense  of  hearing.  She  waited,  with  forced 
calmness,  until  the  hands  were  removed.  Made 
line  did  not  look  up  into  her  face,  but  kept  her  eye& 
resting  on  the  floor. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         255 


"  There  were  other  attendants  on  that  baby,  be 
sides  those  visible  to  human  eyes." 

The  hands  of  Madeline  were  raised  quickly,  but 
the  closing  words  of  the  sentence  arrested  the 
movement. 

"The  mother  did  not  see  them;  the  father  did 
not  see  them  :  but  still  they  were  there." 

The  hands  of  Madeline  began  to  fall,  and  her  ear 
slightly  turned,  listening,  toward  Florence. 

"I  said  they  were  not  visible  to  human  eyes," 
resumed  Miss  Harper.  Madeline  looked  up,  be 
guiled  into  wonder.  "  But  they  were  as  really  pre 
sent,  and  as  near  the  baby,  as  its  parents.  N~o, — not 
both  of  them."  The  last  sentence  was  spoken  in  a 
changed  tone,  as  if  it  involved  some  special  mean 
ing. 

"Not  both?  "Who  were  they  ?"  asked  Madeline, 
her  interest  beginning  to  be  excited. 

"The  one  that  stood  near  the  babe,"  said  Miss 
Harper,  "had  the  form  of  a  beautiful  woman  just 
passed  upward  from  sweet  young  girlhood.  Her 
countenance  was  lovelier,  and  purer  in  expression, 
than  that  of  any  face  ever  seen  by  you  in  a  picture. 
She  bent  over  the  babe  with  clasped  hands,  gazing 
down  upon  it  with  looks  of  wondering  love;  and 
when  it  smiled  her  face  grew  suddenly  radiant. 
The  other,"  (Miss  Harper's  voice  fell  lower,  and 


256         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


took  on  a  graver  tone,)  "  stood  in  a  distant  corner 
of  the  room,  almost  crouching  down,  as  if  held 
there  by  some  superior  power.  Very  different  was 
she  from  the  pure  being  who  bent  over  the  child. 
Her  face  wore  a  frowning,  malignant  expression, 
instead  of  curling  golden  hair  gracefully  falling 
around  her  neck  and  upon  her  shoulders,  dark, 
tangled  locks  stood  out  from  her  head,  or  crept 
down  over  her  face,  like  serpents." 

"Who  were  they?"  asked  Madeline,  now  tho 
roughly  interested. 

"  One  was  the  baby's  guardian  angel ;  the  other, 
an  evil  spirit." 

Madeline  raised  her  eyes  to  the  face  of  Miss 
Harper  with  looks  of  deeper  wonder. 

"  The  angel's  presence,"  resumed  Florence,  "  was 
alone  sufficient  to  hold  that  evil  spirit,  who  wished 
to  hurt  the  tender  babe,  at  a  distance ;  just  as  good 
affections  in  our  hearts  have  power  to  hold  the  bad 
and  selfish  ones  so  far  away  that  they  can  do  us  no 
possible  harm.  Day  by  day  that  infant  grew  larger, 
and  brighter,  and  happier ;  but  never  for  a  moment 
did  the  angel  remove,  nor  for  a  moment  cease  to 
spread  around  the  babe  a  sphere  of  tender  love,  of 
innocent  and  holy  calmness.  And  the  mother,  and 
all  who  drew  near  to  look  upon  the  babe  or  to  hold 
it  like  a  precious  thing  in  their  arms,  felt  this 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         257 


angelic  sphere  as  something  tender,  pure,  and 
loving." 

"But  what  of  the  bad  spirit?"  asked  Madeline, 
with  increasing  interest. 

"  The  bad  spirit,"  answered  Florence,  "  remained 
also,  and  its  evil  eyes  were  always  upon  the  babe. 
But  the  presence  of  that  celestial  being  kept  her 
ever  at  the  same  distance,  and  seemed  to  hold  her 
there,  as  if  by  a  powerful  arm.  She  could  not  draw 
near  to  the  babe,  nor  even  make  it  aware  of  her 
presence. 

"  Day  by  day  the  child  continued  to  grow  and  to 
become  more  beautiful,  until  four  months  of  its 
sweet  life  had  passed.  Still  the  angel  and  the  bad 
spirit  kept  unweariedly  their  guard  over  and  watch 
upon  the  babe.  Occasionally  a  slight  shade  would 
now  cross  the  angel's  face,  and  always  at  the  same 
instant  a  gleam  of  pleasure  would  lighten  the  dark 
countenance  of  the  watchful  fiend." 

"A  fiend,  Miss  Harper?"  There  was  i  slight 
pallor  on  the  face  of  Madeline,  and  the  interest  it 
expressed  was  verging  on  to  the  painful. 

"I  will  call  one  a  fiend,  as  I  call  the  other  an 
angel.  To  do  good  is  angelic,  while  to  do  evil  is 
fiendlike.  None  but  a  fiend  could  take  pleasure  in 
doing  harm  to  an  innocent  babe.  Well,  as  I  was 

saying,  after  this  darling  baby  was  a  few  months 
R  22* 


258        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


old,  the  angel's  face  would  at  times  be  shadowed ; 
and  then  a  gleam  of  malignant  pleasure  would  flash 
over  the  countenance  of  the  attendant  fiend.  And 
now  I  will  tell  you  the  reason.  Do  you  wish  to 
hear?" 

"Oh,  yes,  Miss  Harper!  Tell  me  the  reason," 
answered  Madeline,  all  attention. 

"  The  babe,  even  as  early  as  I  have  said,  dis 
played  an  evil  temper.  It  grew  angry,  pushed  ita 
mother  away,  and  resisted  her.-  This  troubled  the 
guardian  angel,  and  this  it  was  that  gave  the  fiend 
delight.  But  these  fits  of  passion  were  but  tran 
sient,  passing  away  as  the  morning  cloud  arid  the 
early  dew,  under  the  sunny  influence  of  that  blessed 
guardian  angel.  The  fiend  was  still  repelled, — still 
kept  at  a  distance.  But  she  wearied  not  with  wait 
ing.  She  knew  that  her  time  would  come, — that 
the  angel  would  not  always  have  power  to  hold  her 
in  the  distance." 

Miss  Harper  paused,  and  looked  into  the  face  of 
Madeline.  There  was  something  in  its  deeply- 
interested  expression  that  a  little  puzzled  her. 

"  Shall  I  go  on  ?"  she  asked. 

"  The  fiend  didn't  hurt  the  baby,  Miss  Harper  ? 
The  angel  didn't  go  away  ?"  Her  voice  was  earnest 
almost  to  eagerness. 

"  The  angels  never  leave  us  of  their  own  accord. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         259 


"We  cMve  them  away,  and  then,  instantly,  evil  spirits 
take  their  places.  This  is  so  from  childhood,  even 
to  old  age.  It  was  so  with  the  baby  of  whom  I  am 
telling  you ;  it  is  so  with  your  brother  Georgie  now ; 
fio  with  you ;  so  with  me ;  so  with  every  one.  "Wo 
choose  our  own  companions,  always ;  and  they  are 
evil  or  good.  No  angel  can  be  near  to  us  when  we 
are  angry  with  our  brother,  when  we  hate,  when  we 
are  selfishly  seeking  our  own  pleasure  in  a  total 
disregard  of  others ;  and  the  moment  these  bad 
affections  push  the  angel  attendants  away,  evil 
spirits  draw  near,  and  by  their  malignant  power 
increase  our  anger,  hate,  and  selfishness,  and  make 
us  wretched  in  consequence;  for  bad  passions 
always  produce  unhappiness." 

Madeline  looked  very  serious, — almost  sad. 

"  Is  it  so  with  all  of  us  ?"  she  asked,  in  a  low 
voice. 

"  It  is  so  with  all  of  us,  dear.  But  shall  I  tell  you 
more  about  this  baby?" 

"Yes." 

"No,  Maddy,  the  evil  spirit  was  not  permitted 
to  do  the  baby  harm :  the  loving  angel  appointed  to 
be  the  guardian  of  its  infantile  life  did  not  depart." 

"  But  you  said  that  the  bad  spirit  knew  that  her 
time  would  come  ?"  interrupted  Madeline. 

Florence  sighed.      "  Am  I  bearing  her  beyond 


260        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


her  depth?"  she  said,  questioning  with  herself. 
There  was  a  moment  or  two  of  silence.  Then  she 
resumed : — 

"  The  baby  had  a  good  mother,  and  to  her  mind 
the  angel  was  all  the  while  suggesting  right  ways 
of  influencing  her  precious  darling ;  and  so,  as  the 
babe  grew  older,  its  mind  clearer,  and  its  experience 
wider,  that  loving  mother  was  a  partner  with  the 
angel  in  guarding  it  from  evil  and  in  sowing  in  its 
young  mind  the  seeds  of  goodness.  Now,  Maddy, 
just  think  for  a  moment  of  the  mind  of  a  babe  as 
a  garden  all  prepared  in  the  spring-time  for  seeds. 
If  true  thoughts  and  gentle  and  good  affections  are 
sown  in  this  garden,  good  and  beautiful  plants  will 
spring  up  ;  but,  if  false  thoughts  and  bad  affections 
are  scattered  upon  the  ground,  poisonous  weeds  will 
grow.  You  can  see  that?" 

"  Oh,  yes,"  answered  Madeline. 

"  "Well,  as  I  was  saying,  the  baby  had  a  good 
mother ;  and  she  sowed  good  seeds  in  its  infantile 
mind,  and  as  these  began  to  grow  the  angel  saw 
pure  and  beautiful  things  there,  and  so  kept  very 
near.  If  weeds  had  been  suffered  to  spring  up  in 
this  garden  and  hide  or  destroy  the  heavenly  plants, 
the  angel  would  have  been  repelled  by  these  evil 
things,  while  the  bad  spirit,  seeing  in  them  what 
was  delightful,  would  have  approached,  and  hurt  the 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         261 


baby  by  stimulating  them  to  a  more  rapid  growth. 
Do  you  understand  my  meaning?" 

"  I  think  so." 

"  One  of  the  first  things  that  was  taught  to  this 
baby,  as  its  mind  began  to  open,  was  the  existence 
of  God." 

Florence  spoke  low  and  reverently,  while  her 
eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  countenance  of  her  atten 
tive  listener.  She  saw  a  slight  impulse  strike  the 
child's  features,  and  a  flush  of  sudden  feeling  veil 
them. 

"  Of  that  good  God  who  had  sent  his  pure  angel 
to  be  its  guardian,"  she  added,  in  a  still  lower  and 
more  reverent  voice. 

The  light  returned  again  to  Madeline's  face. 

"  '  How  shall  I  do  this  ?'  asked  the  mother,  in  her 
own  heart ;  and  the  reply  came.  She  did  not  know 
that  it  was  the  angel's  voice  that  gave  the  wished- 
for  answer.  So  she  took  the  little  one's  hands  in 
hers  one  evening,  clasped  and  raised  them  upward, 
and  said,  '  God  bless  little  Amy.'  The  baby  was 
too  young  to  repeat  the  words  of  her  mother,  or 
even  to  comprehend  their  full  meaning;  but  the 
angel,  who  bent  very  near,  breathed  a  holy  feeling 
into  her  tender  spirit,  and  she  had  a  faint  im 
pression  of  something  higher  than  the  visible, 
and  up  to  which  she  might  look  for  blessing. 


262         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


How  sweetly  the  angel  smiled  at  this !  how  darkly 
frowned  the  watchful  fiend  !  The  first  idea  of  God 
was  given ;  and  that  was  a  great  gain,  for  the  angel 
could  now  be  more  intimately  present  with  the  child 
in  this  idea.  So  far  the  angel  was  triumphing  over 
the  fiend." 

"Are  angels  present  with  us  when  we  think  of 
God  ?"  asked  Madeline,  interrupting  Miss  Harper, 
and  speaking  with  the  manner  of  one  who  felt  an 
interest  in  the  question. 

"  If  we  think  of  him  reverently,  they  are." 

"How,  reverently,  Miss  Harper?" 

"As  great,  and  good,  and  holy,"  said  Florence; 
"  for  then  we  shall  desire  to  be  like  him,  and  angels 
are  always  present  with  us  when  we  desire  to  be 
good." 

"And  do  they  help  us  to  be  good?" 

"Always.  To  them  it  is  the  most  delightful  of 
employments." 

The  eyes  of  Madeline  drooped.  She  sighed 
faintly,  and  remained  silent.  Florence  waited  for 
some  moments,  and  then  went  on,  speaking  slowly 
and  impressively : — 

"Tenderly  loved  and  wisely  guarded,  the  first 
moons  of  the  baby's  life  waxed  and  waned,  and  at 
last  a  golden  year  of  its  life  was  completed.  The 
idea  of  God,  once  conceived  in  the  child's  mind, 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


grew  daily  into  a  more  distinct  impression.  Her 
guardian  angel  never  let  that  first,  best  impression 
become  dim,  and  the  good  mother  was  a  co-worker 
with  the  angel. 

"  'Mamma,  read,'  said  little  Amy,  one  day.  She 
was  just  beginning  to  repeat  a  few  small  words. 
The  best  book  in  the  world  was  lying  on  the  table, 
close  by  the  mother's  side,  and  she  turned  to  it  and 
let  her  eyes  rest  upon  the  open  page.  Then  a 
strange  thing  happened.  Both  the  angel  and  the 
evil  spirit  drew  near  to  the  child.  Tender  interest 
and  holy  love  were  on  the  face  of  the  angel ;  anger, 
hate,  and  fierce  determination  on  the  countenance 
of  the  fiend.  The  angel  knew  that  every  sentence 
from  the  holy  book  that  entered  the  child's  mind 
and  fixed  itself  in  her  memory  would  remain  there, 
a  link  in  the  chain  by  which  her  spirit  might  be 
joined  to  heaven  ;  and  the  fiend  knew  that  just  in 
the  degree  that  her  mind  was  filled  with  the  holy 
recepts  and  divine  narratives  of  the  Bible  would 
he  pass  harmless  through  the  trials  and  tempta 
tions  of  her  future  life  and  rise  superior  to  the 
powers  of  darkness.  And  so  the  angel  bent  with 
the  tenderest  solicitude  over  the  child,  while  the  evil 
spirit  strove  to  disturb  her  mind  or  awaken  in  it 
some  evil  passion.  But  the  influence  of  good  was 
strongest,  and  as  the  mother  read  the  little  one 


264         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


leaned  her  head  and  listened  with  fixed  attention. 
Thus  she  read : — '  Now,  when  Jesus  was  born  in 
Bethlehem  of  Judea,  in  the  days  of  Herod  the 
king,  hehold  there  came  wise  men  from  the  East  to 
Jerusalem,  saying,  Where  is  he  that  is  born  king 
of  the  Jews  ?  for  we  have  seen  his  star  in  the  east, 
and  are  come  to  worship  him.'  The  evil  spirit 
could  not  abide  in  the  presence  of  this  word  of 
truth,  as  it  entered  the  mind  of  an  innocent  little 
child,  and  so  retired  to  a  distance,  almost  writhing 
in  hatred  and  pain.  The  mother  read  on : — '  When 
Herod  the  king  had  heard  these  things,  he  was 
troubled,  and  all  Jerusalem  with  him.  And  when 
he  had  gathered  all  the  chief  priests  and  scribes  of 
the  people  together,  he  demanded  of  them  where 
Christ  should  be  born.  And  they  said  unto  him, 
In  Bethlehem  of  Judea,  for  thus  it  is  written  by  the 
prophet:  And  thou,  Bethlehem,  in  the  land  of 
Juda,  art  not  the  least  among  the  princes  of  Juda, 
for  out  of  thee  shall  come  a  governor,  that  shall 
rule  my  people  Israel.  Then  Herod,  when  he  had 
privily  called  the  wise  men,  inquired  of  them  dili 
gently  at  what  time  the  star  appeared.  And  he 
sent  them  to  Bethlehem,  and  said,  Go  and  search 
diligently  for  the  young  child,  and  when  ye  have 
found  him,  bring  me  word,  that  I  may  come  and 
worship  him  also.  When  they  had  heard  the  king, 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         265 


they  departed  ;  and  lo !  the  star  which  they  saw  in 
the  east  went  before  them,  till  it  came  and  stood  over 
where  the  young  child  was.  "When  they  saw  the 
star,  they  rejoiced  with  exceeding  great  joy.  And 
when  they  were  come  into  the  house,  they  saw  th« 
young  child,  with  Mary  his  mother,  and  fell  down 
and  worshipped  him;  and  when  they  had  opened 
their  treasures  they  presented  unto  him  gifts, — gold, 
and  frankincense,  and  myrrh.'  ' 

Florence  had  triumphed;  for  Madeline  was  listen 
ing  to  this  story  of  the  Nativity  with  deep  attention. 
And  so  she  kept  on,  repeating  from  memory  the 
whole  chapter. 

"And  now,"  continued  Florence,  "not  a  day 
passed  in  which  that  innocent  little  one  did  not  ask 
her  mother  to  read ;  and  the  mother  read  to  her,  at 
least  once  every  day,  some  story  from  the  Bible,  so 
that,  as  she  grew  older,  her  memory  was  full  of  pre 
cious  histories,  in  the  thought  of  which  her  guar 
dian  angel  could  be  present  with  her.  She  loved  to 
hear  of  little  Samuel ;  of  Joseph,  who  was  sold  int< 
Egypt  by  his  brethren ;  and  of  the  blessed  Saviour, 
who  went  about  doing  good. 

"And  the  child  grew,  and  grew,  until  babyhood 
was  passed  and  the  sweetness  of  infancy  gave  place 
to  a  more  earnest  life.  But  always  the  day  opened 
or  closed  with  some  lesson  from  the  holy  book; 

23 


266         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


and,  when  that  was  read,  the  angel  drew  very  near 
to  the  child,  while  the  fiend  shrunk  afar  off.  No 
matter  how  many  selfish  feelings  the  evil  spirit  had 
been  successful  in  awakening  through  the  day,  thus 
grieving  the  watching  angel ;  when  the  Bible  was 
read  her  power  was  gone,  and  she  shrunk  away  in 
fear  from  its  divine  brightness. 

"And,  still  as  the  child  grew,  her  mother  taught 
her  to  pity  the  poor,  the  sick,  and  the  suffering,  and 
to  find  pleasure  in  doing  kind  offices  instead  of 
only  desiring  to  have  good  things  for  herself.  In 
all  these  teachings  the  angel  was  very  near,  helping 
the  mother,  and  overcoming  the  fiend's  influence, 
which  was  ever  active.  Often  it  happened  that 
the  fiend  would  approach  the  child  in  an  un 
guarded  moment,  and  fill  her  mind  with  selfish 
thoughts  or  stir  her  heart  with  an  evil  passion. 
For  a  little  while  she  would  have  power  over  her; 
but  the  angel  had  a  dwelling-place  in  the  child's 
mind,  and,  entering,  would  subdue  the  enemy  and 
cast  her  out.  "What  was  that  dwelling-place,  Made 
line?" 

Miss  Harper  looked  lovingly  into  the  face  of  her 
earnestly-listening  pupil. 

"  I  don't  know,"  was  answered. 

"Shall  I  tell  you?" 

"  Oh,  yes.     I  wish  to  know." 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         267 


"Why?" 

Madeline  did  not  answer. 

"Would  you  like  angels  to  have  a  dwelling-place 
in  your  mind?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  Miss  Harper." 

"  That  dwelling-place,"  said  Florence,  very  im 
pressively,  "was  formed  of  the  blessed  words  of 
truth  she  had  learned  from  the  Bible.  Into  these 
the  angel  could  enter  and  abide ;  and  she  did  enter, 
and  by  the  power  of  celestial  love  drove  out  the 
fiend." 

"Long  years  afterward,"  continued  Florence, 
"  when  the  child,  grown  to  be  a  woman,  had  taken 
her  place  in  the  world  as  one  of  its  actors,  meeting 
its  cares,  trials,  crosses,  and  temptations,  she  was 
able  to  overcome  in  all  the  life-battles  she  was 
called  to  fight.  Evil  spirits  assailed  her,  and 
sought  the  destruction  of  her  soul.  They  were 
around  her  in  the  morning,  at  mid-day  and  even- 
'ng.  But  angels  were  also  present  with  her,  and 
present  with  power,  for  in  her  memory  they  found 
passages  from  the  word  of  God,  and  they  abode  in 
them  with  all  their  protecting  influence,  and  helped 
her  to  fight  the  enemies  of  her  soul,  even  to  their 
final  overthrow.  I  very  much  fear  that,  if  her 
mother  had  not  filled  her  memory  with  stories  and 
precepts  from  the  Book  of  books,  these  evil  assail- 


268         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


ants  from  hell  would  have  overcome  in  her  great 
life-battle.  But  she  had  angels  on  her  side ;  and 
God's  angels  are  always  more  powerful  than 
demons.  One  of  these  blessed  beings  can  put  ten 
thousand  evil  spirits  to  flight.  Oh,  then,  let  us 
make  them  our  friends !  Let  us  prepare  dwelling- 
places  for  them  in  our  hearts,  where  they  may  al 
ways  abide  and  shield  us  from  the  powers  of  dark 
ness.  They  dwell  with  us  in  the  divine  teachings 
of  this  holy  book." 

And  Florence,  speaking  with  tender  solemnity, 
lifted  the  Bible  from  the  table  and  held  it  open 
before  Madeline. 

• 

"  Fill  your  mind  with  its  heavenly  lessons.  Let 
the  angels  come  to  you  and  make  their  abode  with 
you  in  its  divine  precepts.  Take  it  to  your  heart, 
dear  Madeline !" 

Madeline  stood  almost  rigid  for  a  moment  or  two, 
as  if  life  were  suspended.  Then,  with  a  gush  of 
tears,  she  caught  at  the  book  and  clasped  it  passion 
ately  to  her  breast. 

"Amen  !  God  be  praised !"  The  lips  of  Florence 
parted,  as  her  wet  eyes  sprung  upward :  there  was 
a  low  murmur  on  the  air ;  and  these  were  her  words 
of  thankfulness. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        269 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

AN   UNEXPECTED   REVELATION. 

IN  the  excitement  attendant  on  the  restoration  of 
Madeline  to  conscious  life,  Adele  had  been  for 
gotten.  Uncle  John  was  the  first  to  remember  her. 
It  was  immediately  after  the  withdrawal  of  Florence 
with  her  charge  to  the  study-room. 

"Where  is  the  girl  ?"  he  asked,  suddenly  glancing 
around. 

No  one  could  answer  the  question. 

"  Did  you  leave  her  in  your  chamber  ?" 

Uncle  John  spoke  to  his  niece. 

"I  do  not  think  she  is  there,"  replied  Mrs.  Dainty. 

"I  hope  she  has  not  left  the  house,"  said  Uncle 
John.  There  was  concern  in  his  voice,  and  he 
moved,  as  he  spoke,  toward  the  door.  "We  are 
largely  in  her  debt,  and  she,  I  think,  needs  our  pro 
tection." 

"She  shall  have  it!"  Mr.  Dainty  spoke  with 
emphasis.  "Go,  Madeline,  and  see  if  she  has  re 
mained  in  your  room." 

Mrs.  Dainty  went  to  her  chamber. 

23* 


270        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"Not  here !"  She  uttered  the  words  just  audibly. 
A  few  moments  she  stood,  her  eyes  glancing  around 
the  apartment,  when  a  low  sound,  like  a  repressed 
sob,  came  to  her  ears.  Stepping  forward,  she  drew 
aside  one  of  the  heavy  window-curtains.  There  sat 
Adele,  crouching  upon  a  low  ottoman,  her  face 
buried  in  her  hands. 

""We  were  afraid  you  had  gone,"  said  Mrs. 
Dainty,  speaking  in  a  kind  voice,  and  laying  her 
hand  gently  on  the  girl's  head. 

Adele  looked  up,  but  did  not  answer.  Her 
singularly  beautiful  face,  in  which  the  softness  of 
childhood  still  blended  with  woman's  firmer  out 
lines,  was  pale  and  very  sad.  Mrs.  Dainty,  whose 
nerves  were  still  all  ajar,  felt  something  like  awe 
steal  into  her  heart  as  she  looked  upon  the  counte 
nance  which  was  upturned  to  hers. 

Just  then  Uncle  John,  whose  anxiety  about  the 
young  stranger  would  not  permit  him  to  await  the 
return  of  his  niece,  entered  the  room.  His  face 
brightened  as  he  saw  Adele. 

"Ah,  my  brave  girl,  you  are  here.  "We  were 
afraid  you  had  left  the  house,"  he  said,  encou 
ragingly. 

Adele  arose,  and  stood,  with  timid,  downcast 
look,  before  Mrs.  Dainty  and  Mr.  Fleetwood. 

"We  owe  you  more  than  thanks,"  said  the  latter. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        271 


"The  service  you  have  rendered  us  is  beyond  all 
price.  How  shall  we  repay  the  obligation?" 

Adele  raised  her  dark  eyes  and  looked  steadily 
into  the  face  of  Mr.  Fleetwood.  There  was  a  strange 
depth  and  beauty  in  those  eyes,  and  something 
mournful  and  pleading.  Mr.  Fleetwood  felt  their 
appeal. 

"What  is  your  name ?"  he  asked. 

"Adele,"  replied  the  girl. 

"Adele— what  ?" 

A  slight  flush  came  into  her  face ;  but  she  did 
not  answer  until  after  a  silence  of  several  moments. 
She  then  said, — 

"Adele  "Weir." 

"  Do  you  wish  to  return  to  your  mother  ?" 

This  question  disturbed  the  girl.  There  was 
evidently  a  strong  mental  conflict. 

"If  mother  was  as  she  used  to  be.  But " 

The  feelings  of  Adele  overmastered  her,  and  she 
again  covered  her  face.  Shuddering  sobs  almost 
convulsed  her  frame.  They  were  not  loud,  but 
repressed  as  if  by  the  whole  strength  of  her  will. 

"If  mother  was  as  she  used  to  be."  Self-pos 
session  was  restored,  after  a  brief  struggle.  "But 
she  is  not,  and  I  am  afraid  never  will  be.  Since  she 
became  a  medium,  she  has  not  been  like  my  mother 
of  old.  The  spirits  tell  her  a  great  many  strange 


272         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


things,  and  she  "believes  all,  and  does  just  what  they 
say.  Oh,  dear !  it  is  dreadful !  I  have  not  had  a 
happy  moment  since  the  knockings,  and  writings, 
and  strange  doings  began.  And  I  don't  like  the 
people  who  come  to  our  house.  Some  of  them,  I 
know,  are  not  good.  There's  a  Mr.  Dyer.  His 
heart  is  full  of  wickedness,  I  am  sure,  for  none  but 
a  wicked  man  ever  had  such  greedy  eyes.  I  was 
not  afraid  of  him,  but  more  of  myself,  when  he 
came  near  me.  I  felt  as  if  I  would  like  to  kill 
him." 

"Did  he  ever  offer  you  an  insult?"  asked  Mr. 
Fleetwood. 

"  Once." 

"What  of  it?" 

"  I  rebuked  him  with  such  strong  words  that  he 
seemed  frightened  for  a  moment.  I  don't  know 
how  I  looked :  it  might  have  been  murder,  for  I 
felt  it." 

Adele  had  grown  excited. 

"  Who  else  visit  at  your  mothers  house  ?"  further 
inquired  Mr.  Fleetwood. 

"Oh,  a  great  many  people.  Circles  meet  there 
every  night,  and  sometimes  every  day.  But  I  never 
saw  any  good  that  came  of  it  all.  The  spirits  tell 
strange  things,  but  I  can't  see  that  any  one  is  made 
better.  Mother  hasn't  been  made  better,  I  know. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        273 


I  am  afraid  her  right  reason  is  gone.  "When  I  waa 
a  very  little  girl,  she  belonged  to  the  church,  and 
used  to  read  the  Bible  a  great  deal.  She  always 
read  it  aloud  when  I  was  with  her ;  and  so  I  got  my 
noughts  full  of  verses  and  stories,  until  I  could  say 
almost  chapters  by  heart.  But  mother  believes  now 
that  spirits  are  making  a  higher  revelation  than  the 
Bible,  and  that  its  teachings  are  of  but  small  account 
in  comparison.  I  am  afraid  that  if  the  spirits  were 
to  tell  her  to  do  almost  any  thing  that  is  forbidden 
in  the  Bible,  she  would  do  it.  Isn't  it  dreadful  ?" 

"Dreadful  indeed!"  said  Mr.  Fleetwood.  "But 
you  believe  in  the  Bible  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes, — yes !  At  first  they  put  me  to  sleep, 
and  tried  to  make  a  medium  of  me.  I  believe  that 
I  did  write  and  talk  some.  But  when  I  got  back 
into  my  real  self  again  I  had  such  awful  feelings 
that  I  was  sure  it  must  be  wrong.  And  so  I  prayed 
God  to  teach  and  help  me.  And  I  think  he  did. 
Their  power  over  me  grew  less  and  less;  and  at 
last  I  was  able  to  throw  it  all  off.  Oh,  sir,  I  do 
not  think  it  would  be  right  for  me  to  go  back 
again." 

"  You  must  not  return,"  answered  Mr.  Fleetwood, 
positively.  "  God  heard  your  prayer,  verily,  and  has 
granted  you  a  deliverance." 

The  lashes  of  the  girl's  eyes  fell  slowly  down 


274        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


upon  her  cheeks,  and  there  came  into  her  face  a 
meek,  sad,  yet  thankful,  expression. 

"You  will  remain  here  for  the  present,"  said  Mr. 
Fleetwood.  "To-morrow  we  will  talk  over  your 
future,  and  decide  what  is  best  to  be  done.  Think 
of  us  as  your  true  friends,  and  fully  depend  upon  us 
for  protection.  If  your  heart  is  right,  Adele, — that 
is,  if  you  wish  to  be  and  to  do  right, — you  have 
nothing  to  fear,  and  every  thing  to  hope." 

"I have  no  other  desire  !"  was  the  tearful  answer. 

Dusky  Night  was  beginning  to  weave  her  web  of 
darkness.  Shadows  were  gathering  in  the  rooms : 
the  stillness  of  twilight  came  stealing  down  upon 
sense  and  feeling.  Half  an  hour  later,  and  the 
family  were  gathered  at  the  tea-table.  There  were 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dainty,  Uncle  John  Fleetwood,  Agnes, 
Madeline,  and  George. 

"What  will  you  have,  dear?"  said  Mr.  Dainty, 
looking  toward  Madeline,  after  he  had  helped  Uncle 
John  and  his  oldest  daughter,  Agnes. 

"I  don't  want  any  thing,"  she  answered,  her  fac 
slightly  reddening  as  she  spoke,  and  her  eyes  turn 
ing  toward  the  door,  as  if  she  were  expecting  some 
one. 

"  This  toast  looks  very  nice,  Maddy.  Let  me 
give  you  a  piece  ?"  Mr.  Dainty  spoke  with  gentle 
persuasion. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         275 


"Can't  I  eat  with  Miss  Harper?"  And  Made 
line  pushed  her  chair  a  little  way  back  from  the 
table. 

Mrs.  Dainty's  eyes  met  those  of  her  husband. 
Her  face  grew  troubled  and  irresolute ;  his  evinced 
a  puzzled  state  of  mind.  Uncle  John  looked  at  his 
niece,  and  mutely  signed  for  her  to  say  yes. 

"If  you  prefer  doing  so,"  answered  Mrs.  Dainty, 
replying  to  Madeline.  "But  I  would  rather  have 
you  take  tea  with  us." 

Consent  and  objection  at  the  same  time  only 
tended  to  push  the  child's  mind  further  away  from 
an  even  balance.  She  had  stepped  back  from  the 
table  with  a  light  motion  as  consent  passed  her 
mother's  lips,  but  stood  suddenly  still,  with  a 
clouded  face,  at  the  objection. 

"  Run  along,  dear,"  said  Uncle  John,  in  a  cheer 
ful  voice.  "  Mother  sa3rs  yes." 

Madeline  moved  a  pace  or  two,  -and  then  stopped. 
Her  chin  was  drawn  down,  her  brow  contracted, 
her  lips  pouting. 

"  Go,  go,  dear !  Mother  is  willing."  Mrs.  Dainty 
saw  her  error,  and  now,  hoping  to  retrieve  it,  spoke 
with  pleasant  animation. 

Madeline  looked  up  at  her  mother,  as  if  in  doubt 
of  her  sincerity.  Mrs.  Dainty  smiled  tenderly,  and 
said,  in  a  loving  voice, — 


276        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"Kiss  me  first,  dear." 

Madeline's  face  brightened.  The  kiss  was  given, 
and  then  she  went  away  with  light  footsteps. 

"I'm  going  to  wait  too,"  said  George,  sturdily, 
as  he  pushed  back  his  chair.  "  I'd  rather  eat  with 
Miss  Harper  than  with  anybody  in  this  house." 

And,  before  his  father  could  interfere  to  stop  him, 
foung  America  was  out  of  the  dining-room. 

"  I  don't  like  that."   Mrs.  Dainty  looked  annoyed. 

"  Children  are  all  democrats,"  said  Uncle  John. 

"I  don't  wish  mine  to  be  democrats,"  answered 
Mrs.  Dainty,  curtly. 

"They  will  get  no  harm  from  eating  with  Flo 
rence, — my  word  for  that, — but  good,  rather." 

"But  I  don't  wish  my  children  to  eat  with  de 
pendants  and  inferiors."  Mrs.  Dainty  drew  up  her 
chest  and  drew  down  her  chin,  and  looked  all  the 
aristocratic  importance  she  knew  how  to  assume. 
In  the  eyes  of  Uncle  John  she  succeeded  in  attain 
ing  simply  the  ridiculous.  Quick  indignation 
thrilled  along  every  nerve  of  his  body,  and  cutting 
rebuke  came  instantly  to  his  tongue.  But  prudence 
whispered  a  timely  caution  in  his  ears,  and  he  only 
said, — 

"  This  is  neither  the  time  nor  the  place  for  dis 
cussing  that  question,  Madeline.  But  after  tea  I 
will  have  something  to  suggest." 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        277 


"On  what  subject?"  inquired  Mrs.  Dainty,  show 
ing  the  existence  of  a  no  very  amiable  mood. 

"On  that  which  is. of  most  interest  to  us  all, — 
the  good  of  these  children,"  replied  Uncle  John. 
"What  is  best  for  them  is  best  to  do.  I  think 
that  is  a  plain  proposition." 

Mrs.  Dainty  was  in  part  disarmed,  and  so  made 
no  answer.  But  she  did  not  look  as  if  she  were  in 
any  better  frame  of  mind.  The  evening  meal  was 
concluded  in  silence. 


278         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

A  REVELATION. 

MB.  and  Mrs.  Dainty  and  Uncle  John  sat  alone 
in  the  library,  into  which  they  had  passed  from  the 
tea-table.  Uncle  John  referred  to  the  remark  of 
his  niece  about  the  children  eating  with  inferiors. 
He  spoke  with  unusual  sobriety  of  manner,  and  in 
a  voice  subdued  far  below  its  ordinary  tone;  for 
Mr.  Fleetwood  was  not  only  a  man  of  quick  feel 
ings,  but  one  who  rarely  took  special  trouble  in  the 
way  of  concealment. 

"In  what  respect,  Madeline,"  he  asked,  in  open 
ing  the  conversation,  "do  you  think  the  children 
will  suffer  injury  by  sitting  at  the  same  table  with 
Miss  Harper  ?  Don't  be  annoyed  at  the  question. 
Don't  let  feeling  obscure  your  mind.  There  is 
much  of  vital  importance  involved  in  this  matter. 
Let  us  come  to  its  consideration  moved  solely  by  a 
desire  to  see  what  is  right.  You  are  the  mother  of 
these  children,  and  your  interest  in  them  should  be 
higher  than  .your  regard  for  any  social  usage  or  for 


THE  ANGJSL  AND   THE  DEMON.  279 


any  mere  prejudice.  You  spoke  just  now  of  Flo 
rence  as  an  inferior  and  a  dependant." 

Uncle  John  paused. 

"Well,  is  she  not?"  Mrs.  Dainty  looked  steadily 
into  the  eyes  of  Mr.  Fleetwood,  with  an  expression 
that  said,  My  question  settles  that  proposition. 

"In  what  is  she  inferior?"  asked  Uncle  John. 

"Your  question  is  absurd,  and  annoys  me,"  re 
plied  Mrs.  Dainty,  with  sudden  feeling. 

"Let  us  put  all  excitement  away,  Madeline,"  said 
the  old  man.  "  It  dims  perception ;  and  too  much 
is  involved  just  now  for  either  reason  or  perception 
to  be  under  a  cloud.  My  question  is  not  absurd, 
but  one  upon  the  right  answer  to  which  hang,  just 
now,  momentous  things.  In  what,  then,  is  Flo 
rence  inferior  to  your  children  ?  Is  her  mind  less 
pure,  her  intellect  of  a  lower  range,  her  tastes  less 
cultivated,  her  accomplishments  defective  in  com 
parison,  her  love  of  truth,  her  honor,  her  sense  of 
religious  duty,  below  that  of  your  children  ?" 

"She  belongs  to  a  lower  grade  in  society," 
answered  Mrs.  Dainty.  "  And  she  is,  in  this  family, 
only  as  a  hireling." 

"Madeline  !"  (Uncle  John's  feelings  betrayed  him 
into  more  excitement  than  he  wished  to  exhibit,) 
"  if  you  had  the  wealth  of  a  Rothschild,  you  could 
not  buy  her  services !  'No  money-consideration  has 


280         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


led  her  back  to  this  house;  and  I  question  much 
whether  she  will  accept  pay  for  any  service  she 
renders." 

"  Then,"  said  Mr.  Dainty,  speaking  for  the  first 
time,  "she  cannot  remain.  I  will  have  no  one's 
labor  as  a  gratuity.  We  are  not  paupers  !" 

"If  you  can  supply  her  place  to  the  children," 
was  Uncle  John's  reply,  "she  will  step  aside, 
pleased,  I  am  sure,  to  retire  from  a  position  in 
which  she  is  so  poorly  appreciated." 

"I  value  her  in  her  place,"  said  Mr.  Dainty, — 
"value  her  beyond  all  price.  Amount  of  com 
pensation  need  be  no  barrier  to  her  remaining  with 
the  children.  But  if  she  demand  an  equality  of 
position  with  us  the  case  is  settled  at  once." 

"You  put  my  own  thoughts  into  words,"  said 
Mrs.  Dainty. 

"She  has  demanded  nothing,"  replied  Uncle 
John, — "suggested  nothing,  intimated  nothing.  1 
saw  her,  and  told  her  of  our  trouble.  She  came,  at 
my  solicitation,  to  help  us;  and  her  services  can 
never  be  repaid.  Her  presence  in  the  house  seemed 
like  the  presence  of  an  angel.  You  asked  her  to 
remain,  and  she  consented,  but  without  stipulation. 
And  now,  in  the  beginning  of  this  restored  relation 
ship,  it  is  for  us  to  consider  well  the  subject  and  to 
define  her  position.  The  higher  we  lift  her,  so  far 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         281 


as  external  things  are  concerned,  the  greater  power 
for  good  will  she  possess.  The  teacher,  guide,  and 
daily  companion  of  our  children  should  be  our 
social  equal.  How  else  can  the  governess,  to  whom 
so  high  an  office  is  delegated,  lift  them  up  to  our 
level?  An  inferior  the  companion  and  instructor 
of  our  children  !  Think  of  it.  Can  the  coarse,  un 
skilled  hands  of  an  inferior  mould  into  forms  of 
spiritual  beauty  the  yielding  and  impressible  ele 
ments  of  a  child's  mind, — that  sublime  structure 
over  which  angels  bend  in  silent  wonder  ?  An  in 
ferior  for  this  work !  God  forbid !  Choose,  rather, 
the  wisest  and  the  best,  and  give  her  the  place  of 
honor  in  your  household.  Honor  her  for  her  gifts 
and  graces ;  and  your  children,  honoring  her  also, 
will  be  drawn  within  the  circle  of  her  heavenly 
attractions.  Edward !  Madeline !  There  is  an 
angel  in  your  house  to-day.  You  cannot  hold  her 
by  the  rough  hands  of  gain ;  she  will  not  be  bribed 
to  stay :  let  me  beg  of  you,  then,  to  reach  out  to 
her  the  right  hand  of  a  glad  welcome.  Agnes, 
George,  and  Madeline  have  already  perceived  her 
true  quality.  Confirm  their  perceptions  by  your 
free  acknowledgment,  and  her  influence  over  them 
will  be  immeasurably  increased." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Uncle  John  ?   Speak  out  in 

plain  words,"  said  Mrs.  Dainty. 

24* 


282        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"Put  her  upon  a  social  equality  with  yourself." 

"How?" 

"  If  she  were  your  sister,  what  then  ?" 

"She  is  not." 

"  But  if  she  were  ?  Then  she  would  sit  with  you 
at  table ;  she  would  meet  your  friends ;  she  would 
be  a  trusted  companion." 

"She  is  not  my  sister,"  answered  Mrs.  Dainty. 

"Suppose  she  were  the  daughter,  or  adopted 
daughter,  of  a  valued  friend  or  wealthy  citizen  ?" 

"  That  would  alter  the  case.    But  she  is  not." 

"Are  you  sure?"  Uncle  John's  voice  fell  to  a 
lower  tone,  and  had  in  it  a  quiver  of  feeling. 

"I  am  sure,"  said  Mrs. Dainty,  with  confidence. 

Uncle  John  let  his  eyes  sink  to  the  floor.  It  was 
plain  that  there  was  something  held  back  in  his 
thoughts. 

"I  wish,"  he  said  at  length,  almost  sadly,  "that 
I  could  help  you  to  see  below  the  surface  of  things, 
— that  you  were  able  to  tell  gold  from  tinsel,  worth 
from  its  counterfeit.  All  true  value  lies  in  quality. 
You  know  the  quality  of  Florence  Harper.  Honor 
the  good,  then.  Be  independent  in  your  sphere  of 
life.  Set  the  noble  example  of  being  just.  You  can 
afford  to  do  so.  Let  it  be  seen  as  a  new  thing,  and 
worthy  of  emulation,  that  in  choosing  a  companion 
and  instructor  for  your  children  you  take  one  worthy 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        283 


to  sit  by  your  side  and  share  your  favor  and  con 
fidence.  You  cannot  see  into  the  mind  of  an  infe 
rior  and  a  dependant  as  you  can  into  the  mind  of 
one  who  is  regarded  as  an  equal." 

But  Uncle  John  could  not  lift  the  minds  of  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Dainty  up  into  the  clear-seeing  region  that 
his  own  occupied. 

"It  is  all  in  vain  to  press  that  view,"  said  his 
niece.  "There  are  certain  social  distinctions  that 
must  be  maintained.  As  to  Miss  Harper,  if  her 
presence  as  a  governess  in  our  family  is  to  be  at  the 
cost  of  your  constant  interference  in  the  matter  of 
position,  I  shall  be  driven  to  the  necessity  of  dis 
missing  her  from  my  service." 

The  little  head  of  Mrs.  Dainty  balanced  itself 
firmly,  and  she  looked  dignified  and  composed.  But 
she  was  not  prepared  for  the  change  that  instantly 
appeared  in  Uncle  John's  manner.  He  stood  up 
very  erect,  with  a  firm,  decided  manner,  and  said, 
like  a  man  in  earnest, — 

"You  will  not,  I  presume,  reverse  your  present 
decision?" 

"I  will  not,"  replied  the  lady. 

"Then  Florence  cannot  remain."  Mr.  Fleetwood 
spoke  as  by  authority. 

"I  can't  see,"  said  Mrs.  Dainty,  "that  you  have 
any  right  to  control  her  movements." 


284         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"  The  time  is  coming,  mayhap,  when  you  will  see. 
For  the  sake  of  your  dear  children," — the  old  man's 
voice  became  unsteady, — "whom  I  love,  with  all 
their  faults,  almost  as  well  as  if  they  were  my  own, 
I  consented  to  let  Florence  take  a  position  in  your 
family  that  you  regard  as  an  inferior  one " 

"You  consented!"  interrupted  the  niece,  with 
some  asperity  and  some  surprise. 

"Yes,  I  consented, — or  rather,  constrained  her  to 
the  act." 

"You !  What  is  the  meaning  of  this,  Uncle  John  ? 
What  did  you  know  of  Florence  Harper  before  she 
came  into  this  house  ?" 

"  Enough  to  make  me  class  her  with  the  best  and 
noblest  of  women !  And  her  conduct  here  has  only 
confirmed  this  estimate  of  her  character." 

"I  wish  you  would  speak  out  more  plainly,  Uncle 
John."  The  haughty  manner  of  Mrs.  Dainty  was 
breaking  down. 

"  Her  mother's  maiden  name  was  Florence  Wil 
liams,"  said  the  old  man,  in  a  low,  quiet  voice. 

Mrs.  Dainty's  face  showed  a  slight  pallor. 

"You  remember  her?" 

"Yes." 

"  The  daughter  is  as  pure  and  true,  as  refined  and 
accomplished,  as  was  her  mother.  Now  you  under 
stand  me.  In  heart,  she  is  my  next  akin.  If  I 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         285 


were  her  father,  I  could  not  love  her  more.  The 
indignities  she  has  suffered  in  this  house,  and  at 
your  hands,  Madeline,  have  cut  me  sharply,  and 
they  pain,  even  now,  like  freshly-opened  wounds. 
It  will  be  hard  for  me  either  to  forget  or  forgive 
them,  for  they  struck  like  arrows,  in  tenderest 
places." 

Mrs.  Dainty  was  speechless  with  surprise,  and  the 
pallor  of  her  countenance  increased.  Mr.  Dainty 
ventured  no  remark. 

"I  did  not  wish  to  make  this  revelation  now," 
said  Mr.  Fleetwood.  "  But  you  have  forced  it  upon 
me.  My  hope  was  that  you  would  be  clear-seeing 
enough  to  comprehend  her  true  character,  and  give 
her  a  place  by  your  side  because  she  was  worthy  to 
sit  there.  I  thought  that  you  would  be  able  to 
comprehend  the  force  of  what  I  said  just  now  about 
the  importance  of  making  your  children's  trusted 
companion  and  instructor  your  social  equal,  in  order 
that  she  might  all  the  while  be  lifting  them  up 
toward  the  elevated  position  you  desired  them  to 
occupy.  But  pride  obscured  true  perception.  And 
so  I  have  been  forced  to  an  earlier  declaration  than 
I  desired  of  my  adopted  daughter's  true  relation." 

"Adopted  daughter!"  Mrs.  Dainty  looked  con 
founded. 

"  Even  so,  Madeline.    Even  so !    And,  as  I  have 


286        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


said,  if  she  were  my  own  child  I  could  not  love  her 
more  tenderly.  True,  wise,  noble-hearted,  self-ab 
negating  girl !  To  me  it  is  a  cause  of  wonder  that 
your  eyes  were  not  able  to  see  the  angel  in  your 
house." 

"I  am  bewildered,  Uncle  John,"  said  Mrs.  Dainty, 
greatly  subdued.  "  Leave  me  now,  that  I  may  col 
lect  my  thoughts." 

"As  you  collect  them,"  replied  Mr.  Fleetwood, 
"I  pray  you  to  examine  each  with  the  closest  care. 
Only  true  thoughts  lead  to  right  actions.  Let  there 
be  no  error  in  your  summing  up, — no  fatal  defect  in 
your  conclusions.  There  are  two  paths  diverging 
before  you  :  Madeline,  spoiled  child  of  a  dear  sister ! 
beware,  lest  you  take  the  wrong  one  !" 

And  he  went,  in  evident  agitation,  from  the  room. 


•HE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         287 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

REVIEWING   THE   MATTER. 

"  THAT  alters  the  case,"  Mrs.  Dainty  spoke  sug 
gestively,  raising  her  eyes  from  the  floor,  and  look 
ing  at  her  husband.  It  was  nearly  five  minutes 
after  Uncle  John  had  left  the  library. 

"  Yes,  that  alters  the  case,"  was  the  half-dreamy 
response  of  Mr.  Dainty.  "  That  alters  the  case,"  he 
repeated,  and  then  relapsed  into  silence. 

So  far  they  were  agreed. 

"  That  artful  girl " 

Mrs.  Dainty  paused,  for  she  was  not  entirely  cer 
tain  in  regard  to  her  husband's  present  estimate  of 
Miss  Harper. 

"Do  you  think  her  artful ?"  inquired  Mr.  Dainty 
looking  at  his  wife. 

"  See  what  influence  she  has  gained  over  Uncle 
John." 

"  That  may  be  explained  on  other  grounds,"  said 
Mr.  Dainty. 

"What  are  they?" 

"  He  has  himself  referred  to  them." 


288         THE  ANWEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"  I  thought  he  had  forgotten  Florence  "Williams 
years  ago,  or  that,  if  he  remembered  her  at  all,  it 
was  with  indifference  or  dislike.  She  jilted  him 
meanly.  But  I  was  always  glad  of  it." 

"  Madeline,"  said  Mr.  Dainty,  speaking  in  a  de- 
jided  way,  "we  cannot  change  the  present  con 
dition  of  things:  that  each  of  us  may  see  at  a 
glance.  And  the  question  for  us  to  ponder  is,  can 
we  afford  to  let  our  feelings  rule,  and  so  break  with 
Uncle  John?  There  is  no  use  in  beating  around 
the  bush.  No  use  in  fretting  ourselves.  The  horns 
of  our  dilemma  are  visible  as  the  sun  at  noonday, 
and  we  must  make  our  election.  Uncle  John  has 
made  his:  that  is  certain." 

"And  do  you  really  think  he  will  give  us  and 
our  children  up  for  that  girl?"  said  Mrs.  Dainty. 

"  I  am  sure  of  it.  Did  you  not  see  how  he  was 
moved  when  he  said  that  he  loved  her  as  if  she  were 
his  own  child  ?  I  marked  it  well.  I  have  seen  him 
disturbed  a  hundred  times  in  my  life,  but  never  as 
he  was  this  evening." 

Mrs.  Dainty  sighed  deeply. 

"We  shall  have  to  humor  him,"  said  Mr. 
Dainty. 

"And  let  that  upstart  triumph  over  me!"  Mrs. 
Dainty  burst  into  tears.  Pride  could  not  endure 
the  thought. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        289 


"Are  you  not  prejudiced  against  her,  Madeline? 
She  has  never  seemed  to  me  presuming." 

Before  Mrs.  Dainty  could  reply,  the  library-door 
was  pushed  open,  and  Madeline  came  gliding  in. 
From  her  manner  it  was  plain  that  she  had  come  to 
make  a  request,  and  also  plain  that  she  was  in  doubt 
as  to  its  reception. 

"Mother,"  she  said,  as  she  paused  a  few  steps 
from  Mrs.  Dainty. 

"Well,  dear?" 

"  Can't  I "  The  child  hesitated,  and  her  face 

colored. 

"  Say  on,  dear." 

"  Can't  I  sleep  with  Miss  Harper  ?" 

A  strongly-uttered  negative  was  on  the  lip  of 
Mrs.  Dainty,  when  a  warning  look  and  gesture  from 
her  husband  forced  her  to  keep  silence. 

"Can't  I,  mother?"  urged  the  child.  "  Say  yes. 
Do,  mother!" 

Madeline  was  unusually  earnest. 

"Why  do  you  wish  to  sleep  with  Miss  Harper?" 
asked  her  father. 

"  Oh,  because  she  is  good,  and  I  love  her." 

"Don't  you  love  sister  Agnes?" 

"  Yes,  I  love  her."  The  tone  of  Madeline's  voice 
fell. 

"  Isn't  she  good  ?" 

T  26 


290         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"Not  like  Miss  Harper." 

"Not  like  Miss  Harper?" 

"No." 

"What  is  the  difference,  darling?"  And  Mr 
Dainty,  interested  in  spite  of  himself,  drew  an  arm 
around  Madeline  and  pressed  her  to  his  side. 

"God  has  made  her  good,"  said  the  child,  speak 
ing  low  and  reverently. 

•  This  answer  sent  a  strange  thrill  through  the 
heart  of  Mrs.  Dainty.  The  father  asked  no  other 
question. 

"Can't  I  sleep  with  her  to-njght,  mother?  Say 
yes,  just  for  to-night." 

"Yes,  for  to-night,"  answered  Mrs.  Dainty,  speak 
ing  as  one  constrained. 

Madeline  threw  her  arms  around  her  mother's 
neck,  and,  kissing  her,  said,  in  a  light,  fluttering 
voice, — 

"  Oh,  I'm  so  glad !"  Then  she  flew  away,  like  a 
happy  bird  in  the  warm  spring  sunshine. 

"Therfe  is  one  thing  very  certain,  Madeline,"  said 
Mr.  Dainty,  as  the  child  vanished  from  the  room  : 
"Miis  Harper's  influence  upon  the  children  is  good, 
and  for  their  sakes,  if  no  other  considerations  were 
urged,  we  had  better  let  Uncle  John  have  his  way. 
"We  can  tolerate  her." 

Mrs.  Dainty  shook  her  head. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        291 


"Toleration  is  not  going  to  do,"  she  answered. 
"  Entire  social  equality  is  demanded ;  and  nothing 
less  will  satisfy  either  of  them." 

"  I  am  not  sure  that  Miss  Harper  has  demanded 
any  thing.  Uncle  John  said  she  had  not,  and  that 
she  was  here  only  upon  his  strong  solicitation.  It 
is  barely  possible,  Madeline,  that  you  have  misunder 
stood  her  from  the  beginning.  At  least,  one  thing 
is  now  certain.  Her  social  position  will  be  changed 
by  Uncle  John's  formal  adoption.  She  will  be  lifted 
to  our  level,  and  society  will  recognise  her.  So  far 
we  will  be  all  right  with  the  world." 

"  There  is  something  in  that,"  said  Mrs.  Dainty, 
a  trifle  softened.  "But  will  she  remain  as  governess 
to  the  children  ?" 

"We  can  sink  the  word  'governess.'  Let  her  be 
their  companion  and  instructor." 

"Only  another  name  for  the  same  thing,"  re 
marked  Mrs.  Dainty.  "  The  position  is  menial." 

"I  have  thought  differently,  since  Uncle  John's 
remarks  a  little  while  ago,"  said  Mr.  Dainty.  "  They 
struck  me  as  having  great  force." 

"What  did  he  say?  I  was  so  excited  and  out 
raged  that  I  scarcely  comprehended  him." 

"  He  said  that  the  teacher,  guide,  and  companion 
of  our  children  must  be  socially  equal,  or  she  cannot 
lift  them  up  to  our  level.  And  he  asked,  with  to 


292        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


me  startling  emphasis,  'Can  the  coarse,  unskilled 
hands  of  an  inferior  mould  into  forms  of  spiritual 
beauty  the  ductile  elements  of  a  child's  mind, — that 
sublime  creation  over  which  angels  bend  in  silent 
wonder  ?'  '  Choose,'  he  added,  '  the  wisest  and  the 
oest ;  and  give  her  the  place  of  honor  in  your  house 
hold.'  There  is  force  in  that  view  of  the  question, 
Madeline, — great  force;  and  our  sad  experience 
with  Mrs.  Jeckyl  should  be  felt  as  a  solemn  warning. 
If  menials  and  inferiors  are  to  be  instructors  of  our 
children,  will  they  not  deprave  their  tastes  instead 
of  elevating  them  ?  Can  an  impure  fountain  send 
forth  sweet  waters  ?  "We  cannot  gather  grapes  of 
thorns,  nor  figs  of  thistles." 

Mrs.  Dainty  sat  with  her  eyes  cast  down,  and  a 
thoughtful,  sober  expression  on  her  face. 

"For  the  sake  of  our  children,"  she  said,  looking 
up,  after  the  lapse  of  some  moments,  "  I  ought  to 
be  willing  to  do  almost  any  thing.  But  this  is  a 
hard  requirement." 

"I  do  not  believe,"  answered  Mr.  Dainty,  "that 
Miss  Harper  will  ever  intrude  herself  offensively 
upon  us.  In  no  instance  since  she  has  been  in  our 
house  have  I  observed  the  slightest  tendency  in  that 
direction." 

"  I  have  had  better  opportunities  for  observation," 
was  the  reply,  "  and  read  her  deportment  somewhat 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        293 


differently.  Why,  if  she  were  to  the  very  manor 
born,  she  could  not  bear  herself  with  greater  ease 
nor  show  a  higher  self-possession.  There  is  the  tone 
and  carriage  about  her  of  one  who  acknowledges  no 
superior.  It  is  this  in  the  girl  that  has  always  an 
noyed  me." 

"  You  may  have  looked  through  a  distorting  me 
dium,"  said  Mr.  Dainty. 

"It  is  possible,"  was  answered,  in  a  subdued 
voice.  And  then  another  long  silence  followed.  It 
was  broken  in  upon  by  the  entrance  of  Agnes,  their 
oldest  daughter.  She  pushed  the  door  open  quietly, 
and,  seeing  her  father  and  mother  alone,  was  about 
retiring,  when  the  former  said, — 

"  Come  in,  daughter." 

"  I  only  wanted  a  book,"  remarked  Agnes. 

"  Come  and  sit  down  here.  I  have  something  to 
say  to  you  about  Miss  Harper,"  added  Mr.  Dainty. 

Agnes  looked  curiously  at  her  father. 

""What  about  Miss  Harper?"  she  asked,  as  she 
drew  a  chair  to  his  side. 

"  You  like  her  ?"  Mr.  Dainty  spoke  in  a  tone  of 
inquiry. 

"Oh,  yes,  father."  The  answer  was  warmly 
uttered. 

"Why?" 

"  Because  she  is  kind  and  good.' 

25* 


294         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"Do  you  wish  her  to  remain  here?" 

"  I  wouldn't  have  her  go  away  for  all  the  world !" 
said  Agnes,  speaking  with  strong  emphasis. 

"Why  not?" 

"What  would  become  of  Madeline?"  was  the 
earnestly-spoken  inquiry. 

"Of  Madeline?"  Both  Mr.  and  Mrs  Dainty 
looked  with  surprise  at  Agnes. 

"Yes :  that  dreadful  woman  would  get  her  again. 
Maddy  would  steal  off,  as  she  did  before.  Oh, 
father,  don't  let  Miss  Harper  go  away !  she's  the 
only  one  who  can  get  along  with  sister  now.  She 
is  so  wise,  so  good,  so  loving,  and  so  patient.  I 
looked  at  her  a  little  while  ago,  as  she  sat  reading 
in  the  Bible  to  Madeline,  and  thought  her  face 
shone  like  that  of  an  angel.  I  wished  then  that 
she  were  my  sister,  instead  of  only  our  governess. 
Dear  father,  I  think  Miss  Harper  must  have  been 
born  a  true  lady." 

"Agnes,"  said  Mr.  Dainty,  after  musing  for  some 
moments,  "Uncle  John  knew  her  mother." 

"Did  he?"     The  face  of  Agnes  brightened. 

"  Yes :  he  knew  her  a  great  many  years  ago." 

"  Then  he  had  seen  Miss  Harper  before  she  came 
here?" 

"Yes;  and  it  was  because  he  had  faith  in  her 
goodness  and  intelligence  that  he  was  so  desirous  to 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        295 


have  her  remain  as  your  governess.  We  had  no 
knowledge  of  all  this  when  she  came  here,  but  he 
told  us  about  it  this  evening.  And  now  she  is  going 
to  be  one  of  us ;  that  is,  she  will  be  as  our  daughter 
and  your  elder  sister." 

"  How  glad  I  am !  how  glad  I  am !"  exclaimed 
Agnes,  striking  her  hands  together,  while  tears 
filled  her  eyes.  "But,  mother,  you  don't  say  any 
thing!"  And  she  stood  up  and  looked  earnestly 
into  her  mother's  face. 

"Can  you  accept  her  as  an  equal?"  asked  Mrs. 
Dainty,  almost  coldly. 

"She  is  wiser  and  better  than  I  am,"  replied 
Agnes,  humbly.  "  If  she  will  accept  me  as  a  sister, 
my  heart  will  yield  to  her  joyfully.  Dear  mother, 
take  her  into  favor  and  love,  for  she  is  worthy." 

"Leave  us  now,  daughter,"  said  Mrs.  Dainty,  in  a 
softened  voica.  "We  will  talk  about  this  another 
time." 

And  Agnes,  after  kissing  her  mother  affection 
ately,  withdrew  from  the  library. 

"  The  thing  is  inevitable."  Mrs.  Dainty  was  not 
by  any  means  reconciled,  as  both  tone  and  manner 
indicated. 

"But  easy." 

"Easy?" 

"Yes,  and  may  be  accepted  gracefully.    Let  us 


296         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


be  thankful  that  Miss  Harper  is  not  a  proud,  selfish, 
designing  girl,  whose  first  effort  would  be  to  produce 
alienation  between  us  and  Mr.  Fleetwood." 

The  thoughts  of  Mrs.  Dainty  reverted  at  once  to 
the  insolent  manner  in  which  she  had  conducted 
herself  toward  Miss  Harper,  and  her  efforts  to 
degrade  her  in  the  family;  and  a  wave  of  appre 
hension  swept  across  her  selfish  heart. 

"But,"  continued  Mr.  Dainty,  "of  this  I  do  not 
imagine  there  is  any  thing  to  fear.  Miss  Harper  I 
regard  as  above  suspicion.  There  is  no  doubt  of 
her  being  able  to  influence  your  uncle  against  us  if 
she  should  be  so  inclined.  Let  us  act  wisely,  and 
not  produce  in  her  that  inclination.  Madeline,  you 
see  as  clearly  as  I  do  the  doubtful  position  we  now 
occupy.  The  tables  are  suddenly  turned  upon  us, 
and  we  are  to-day  in  the  power  of  an  obscure  young 
girl  upon  whom  we  have  looked  down  as  the 
humble  governess  of  our  children.  It  is  no  use  to 
strive  against  the  inevitable.  "We  must  eithei 
accept  or  reject  her.  If  the  former,  it  will  have  to 
be  done  heartily.  Neither  coldness  nor  reserve  will 
answer.  Miss  Harper  is  clear-seeing,  sensitive,  and 
high-spirited.  Her  relation  to  Mr.  Fleetwood  gives 
her  a  position  of  equality,  and  any  attempt  on  your 
part  to  degrade  her,  in  even  the  slightest  thing,  will 
be  felt  and  resented  by  both." 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        297 


"  I  see ;  I  see,"  answered  Mrs.  Dainty,  moodily. 
"  But,  when  a  thing  has  to  be  done,  only  fools  hesi 
tate.  I  will  discipline  my  feelings  to-night,  and  to 
morrow  put  on  toward  this  usurping  girl  a  new 
exterior.  Don't  fear  but  that  I  shall  play  my  part." 

"It  may  cost  you  a  struggle,"  said  her  husband, 
"but  the  strife  will  soon  be  over.  I  hope  much 
from  her  gentle  nature,  and  much  from  her  clear 
perception  of  right.  She  will  not,  I  am  sure,  take 
a  mean  advantage  of  this  great  diversion  in  her 
favor." 

"Time  will  show,"  was  the  almost  sullen  re 
sponse. 


298         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


CHAPTER  XXVH 

GETTING  RIGHT. 

No-  word  of  caution  had  been  spoken  in  the  ears 
of  Agnes  by  either  her  father  or  her  mother;  and 
BO,  with  a  heart  full  of  joy  at  the  news  she  had 
heard,  she  ran  to  the  chamber  where  Florence  was 
alone  with  Madeline,  and,  throwing  her  arms 
around  her  neck,  kissed  her,  and  said, — 

"  Dear  sister !    Dear  sister !" 

Florence  returned  the  embrace,  and  kissed  Agnes 
tenderly. 

"Dear  sister!"  murmured  the  excited  girl,  again 
pressing  her  lips  to  the  cheek  of  Miss  Harper. 

"I  am  your  true  friend,  Agnes,"  said  the 
young  governess,  calmly — "your  true  and  loving 
friend." 

"  Be  nearer  than  a  friend  ;  even  as  a  sister.  Father 
says  that  now  you  are  to  be  as  a  daughter  in  the 
house.  Uncle  John  has  told  him  all.  Oh,  I  am  so 
glad!  so  glad!" 

The  face  of  Miss  Harper  grew  pale,  and  she  sat 
very  still  for  some  moments. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         299 


"  Maybe  I  shouldn't  have  told  you,"  said  Agnes, 
looking  concerned.  "But  my  heart  was  so  full  I 
could  not  help  it." 

"Where  is  your  mother?"  asked  Florence,  after 
a  pause. 

"In  the  library,  with  father,"  replied  Agnes. 

"  Will  you  remain  for  a  little  while  with  Made 
line  ?  I  wish  to  see  your  mother.  You  will  stay 
with  your  sister,  dear,  until  I  come  back  ?"  And  she 
stooped  over  Madeline. 

"  You  won't  stay  long,  will  you  ?" 

"No.  I  will  return  soon."  And  she  arose  and 
left  the  chamber. 

Since  the  remark  of  Mrs.  Dainty,  with  which  the 
preceding  chapter  closed,  no  words  had  passed  be 
tween  her  and  her  husband.  They  were  still  sitting 
in  the  library,  when  the  door  was  pushed  quietly 
open,  and  the  subject  of  their  recent  conversation 
entered.  A  glance  at  her  almost  pale  face  showed 
that  her  feelings  were  strongly  agitated.  Her  man 
ner,  as  she  crossed  the  room  toward  Mrs.  Dainty, 
was  subdued  and  respectful.  The  latter  rose  as 
Florence  approached  her.  The  struggle  with  herself 
was  powerful,  but  brief.  Suddenly  her  cold  face  was 
broken  by  rippling  smiles,  and,  with  a  warmth  of 
tone  and  manner  that  was  remarkable,  considering 


300         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


the  real  state  of  her  feelings,  she  said,  grasping  the 
young  girl's  hand,  and  kissing  her, — 

"We  have  heard  all,  dear  Miss  Harper,  and 
take  you  to  our  home  and  hearts.  Be  to  us  as  a 
daughter,  and  to  our  children,  who  love  you,  as  an 
elder  sister." 

"Welcome  !  Thrice  welcome  !"  said  Mr.  Dainty, 
offering  his  hand. 

Florence  was  so  much  overcome  by  this  unex 
pected  reception  that  she  was  unahle  to  reply.  Her 
face  remained  pale  and  strongly  agitated.  Before 
self-control  was  regained,  Mr.  Fleetwood  entered 
the  library. 

"See,  Uncle  John,"  cried  Mrs.  Dainty;  "we  have 
already  taken  this  dear,  good  girl  into  our  love  and 
confidence.  She  shall  be  as  our  daughter.". 

Mr.  Fleetwood  was  taken  by  surprise.  He  stood 
still  for  a  moment  or  two,  half  bewildered.  Then, 
comprehending  the  scene,  he  advanced  to  Florence, 
and,  drawing  an  arm  around  her,  said,  with  much 
feeling, — 

"  The  trial  is  over,  dear  child !  There  are  no 
more  rough  paths  for  your  tender  feet." 

And  he  pressed  his  lips  against  her  pure  fore 
head.  She  could  bear  up  under  the  weight  of  emo 
tion  no  longer.  Sobs  convulsed  her,  and,  as  tears 
poured  over  her  cheeks,  she  hid  her  face  upon  the 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        801 


old  man's  breast  and  wept  passionately.  Even  the 
worldly,  calculating  heart  of  Mrs.  Dainty  was  touched, 
and  Mr.  Dainty  drew  his  hand  quickly  across  his 
eyes  to  dash  away  the  blinding  drops. 

"I  promised  Madeline  to  return  very  soon." 
Florence  was  the  first  to  gain  entire  self-control. 
She  spoke  in  a  low  but  steady  voice,  as  she  looked 
up.  "And  now  I  must  go  back  to  her.  I  need 
not  say  that  my  heart  is  deeply  touched  by  this 
unexpected  occurrence.  You  offer  more  than  I 
have  any  right  to  claim, — more  than  I  desire.  Let 
me  still  be  to  your  children  as  in  the  beginning.  I 
came  as  their  teacher ;  I  have  learned  to  love  them ; 
I  am  sure  that  I  can  do  them  good." 

"  The  children's  teacher,  and  the  mother's  friend !" 
said  Mrs.  Dainty,  whose  feelings  were  taking  a 
higher  tone.  She  saw  herself  in  the  right  path, 
although  by  constraint,  and  felt  that  the  way  before 
her  was  easier  to  walk  in  than  she  had  dared  to 
hope. 

"Yes, — the  mother's  friend,"  Mr.  Fleetwood  spoke 
slowly  and  with  emphasis ;  "  for  none  else  is  worthy 
to  be  the  children's  instructor,  companion,  and 
guide." 

"While  he  was  yet  speaking,  Florence  retired  from 
the  room. 

"You  have   done  well,   Madeline,"   added  Mr. 

26 


302         THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


Fleetwood,  as  the  door  closed  on  Florence,  "  and 
better  a  great  deal  than  I  had  reason  to  expect.  In 
bending  down  to  one  like  Miss  Harper,  and  raising 
her  up  to  the  social  level  you  occupy,  there  is  no 
oss  o'n  your  part,  while  the  sphere  of  life  in  which 
you  move  gains  largely  by  an  accession  of  virtue, 
intelligence,  refined  taste,  and  womanly  self-reliance. 
Depend  upon  it,  Madeline,  the  benefit  is  largely  in 
your  favor.  Florence  will  give  more  of  good  than 
she  receives." 

"  She  is  certainly  a  remarkable  girl,"  said  Mr. 
Dainty.  "  In  our  late  trouble  she  exhibited  qualities 
that  now  excite  my  admiration.  If  our  dear  lost 
cSild  had  been  her  own  sister,  she  could  not  have 
pursued  the  search  with  greater  assiduity.  "We  owe 
her  more  than  we  can  ever  repay." 

"And  there  is  a  work,"  replied  Mr.  Fleetwood, 
speaking  in  a  tone  of  unusual  seriousness,  "which, 
if  she  have  the  wisdom  to  execute,  will  lay  us  under 
still  higher  obligations." 

Uncle  John  paused.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dainty  looked 
at  him  inquiringly. 

"  Maddy  is  changed." 

He  paused  again, — then  added, — 

"And  there  is  a  fearful  mystery  connected  with 
the  change.  "We  trace  its  beginning  from  the 
hour  that  demon  in  human  guise  entered  our 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        803 


home,  and  let  the  glare  of  her  evil  eye  fall  upon 
the  child.  She  gained,  by  some  infernal  art,  control 
over  the  will  of  that  child,  and  led  her  off  a  captive, 
powerless  to  resist.  Thank  God,  we  have  rescued 
her,  so  far  as  the  body  is  concerned.  But  the  thral 
dom  went  far  below  the  visible  and  the  external. 
There  is  yet  a  spell  upon  her  life, — a  spell  that  must 
be  broken ;  and  I  have  no  hope,  except  in  Florence 
Harper !" 

A  shadow  of  fear  settled  on  the  face  of  Mrs. 
Dainty. 

"It  is  wonderful,"  continued  Uncle  John,  "with 
what  wise  caution  Miss  Harper  is  already  acting 
toward  Maddy.  Would  you  believe  it?  the  child 
not  only  refused  to  let  Florence  read  to  her  from 
the  Bible,  but  actually  sought  to  destroy  the  book ! 
And-  yet  the  good  girl  was  not  turned  aside  from 
her  holy  purpose,  but  lured  the  perverse  one  into 
the  right  way.  In  the  end,  Maddy  listened  with 
deep  interest  while  Florence  read  of  the  Saviour's 
birth.  "Wise,  loving,  true-hearted  girl !  She  is  the 
angel  in  our  house,  Madeline !  Fail  not  to  honor 
the  heavenly  guest.  She  has  begun  right;  let  us 
give  her  all  possible  aid,  so  that  the  angel 
triumph  over  the  demon." 


304         IHE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


CHAPTER  XXVUL 

CONCLUSION. 

ON  the  next  day  Adele  Weir  was  taken  by  Mr. 
Fleetwood  and  Florence  to  the  house  of  Mrs.  Elder. 
The  good  lady,  when  she  clearly  understood  the 
case,  and  read  something  of  the  girl's  character  and 
state  of  mind,  did  not  hesitate  about  receiving  her, 
and  Adele  accepted  the  proffered  home  and  refuge 
with  tearful  gratitude. 

Mr.  Fleetwood  and  Florence  returned  together. 
As  they  drew  near  the  house  of  Mr.  Dainty,  they 
saw  a  woman  ascend  the  steps  and  ring  the  bell. 
Before  they  came  up,  the  door  was  opened  and  the 
woman  entered. 

"Who  is  that?"  asked  Mr.  Fleetwood. 

"If  my  eyes  do  not  deceive  me,"  was  the  reply 
of  Florence,  "  it  is  the  mother  of  Adele  "Weir." 

"No  !  she  would  hardly  dare  venture  here." 

"A  mother  will  dare  much  for  her  child,"  said 
Florence. 

They  moved  forward  quickly,  and  were  soon  at 
the  door. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         805 


"  Who  came  in  just  now  ?"  inquired  Miss  Harper, 
in  a  low  voice. 

The  waiter  shook  his  head  as  he  answered,  "Don't 
know,  miss." 

"What  name  did  she  give?" 

"  She  asked  for  Mrs.  Dainty,  but  would  not  send 
up  her  name." 

"Let  us  go  into  the  parlor,"  said  Mr.  Fleetwood, 
in  a  whisper  to  Florence.  Florence  looked  assent, 
and  the  two  passed  in.  A  woman  closely  veiled  sat 
on  one  of  the  sofas. 

"  Mrs.  Weir !"  said  Florence,  speaking  with  blend 
ed  surprise  and  indignation  in  the  tones  of  her  voice. 
The  veil  was  drawn  aside,  revealing  the  pale  face 
and  glittering  black  eyes  of  Adele's  mother.  Her 
thin  lips  were  firmly  set,  and  the  expression  of  the 
woman's  countenance  was  resolute. 

"I  have  come  for  my  child !"  she  said,  in  a  voice 
that  betrayed  much  agitation  of  mind. 

"She  is  not  here,"  Florence  replied. 

"  She  was  brought  here,"  said  the  woman,  fixing 
her  piercing  eyes  upon  the  face  of  Miss  Harper. 

"She  came  here  to  restore  to  her  mother  the 
child  a  wicked  woman  enticed  away,  and  you 
secreted,  making  yourself  thereby  a  party  to  the 
crime." 

"  And  is  here  now  ?"  said  Mrs.  Weir. 

U  26* 


306        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


"No,  she  is  not  here,"  answered  Florence.  "I 
said  that  once  before." 

"Then  where  is  she?" 

Florence  turned  to  Mr.  Fleetwood,  and  the  old 
gentleman  promptly  took  her  place. 

"  Beyond  the  reach  of  your  blighting  influence, 
madam,"  said  he,  in  his  decided  way,  "  and,  I  trust, 
forever  beyond." 

"Sir,  I  will  not  be  robbed  of  my  child!"  And 
the  woman  started  to  her  feet,  exhibiting  not  only 
strong  excitement,  but  a  determined  spirit. 

"  Your  child  has  fled  from  you  in  fear,"  said  Mr. 
Fleetwood,  assuming  a  calmer  voice,  "and  is  now, 
I  trust  for  her  sake,  entirely  beyond  your  influence. 
She  has  made  her  election,  and,  so  long  as  she  con 
tinues  in  her  present  mind,  will  have  friends  to  guide 
and  protect  her.  And  now,  madam,  let  me  warn 
you,  in  the  beginning,  against  any  attempts  to  annoy 
this  family.  Your  daughter  is  not  here,  and  there 
fore  all  search  for  her  in  this  direction  will  be  fruit 
less.  If  you  come  here  again  you  will  be  handed 
over  to  the  law.  And  I  am  not  sure  that  we  shall 
let  you  escape  as  it  is.  The  part  you  have  taken  in 
the  concealment  of  the  child  stolen  from  this  house 
makes  you  an  accomplice  in  the  crime, — you  and 
the  man  Dyer  also." 

At  the  name  of  Dyer  the  woman  started  in  sur- 


HIE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        307 


prise,   and  a  shade  of  alarm  came  over  her  pale 
face. 

"  Mr.  Dyer  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  affairs  of 
my  house,"  she  said,  quickly. 

"  He  is  known  to  have  been  a  party  in  this  wicked 
transaction."  Mr.  Fleetwood  spoke  sternly  and 
positively.  "And  I  shall  get  the  police  on  his 
track." 

Mrs.  Weir  manifested  still  greater  disturbance, 
which  encouraged  the  old  gentleman  to  continue 
the  assault  in  that  direction. 

"See  to  it,  then,  both  of  you!"  he  continued. 
"  Such  things  are  not  to  be  done  in  the  broad  day 
and  passed  over  as  of  light  account.  You  will  all 
of  you  find,  before  you  are  done  with  this  nefarious 
business,  that  you  have  gone  a  step  too  far.  Mrs. 
Jeckyl  has  escaped  us ;  but  some  one  must  answer 
to  outraged  justice.  Florence !"  Mr.  Fleetwood 
turned  quickly  to  Miss  Harper  and  said,  "  Tell  the 
waiter  that  I  wish  to  see  him,"  adding,  in  a  lower 
key,  "  it  will  hardly  do  to  let  this  woman  escape." 

The  closing  words  reached  the  ears  for  which  they 
were  really  intended,  and  Mrs.  "Weir,  as  Florence 
turned  to  leave  the  parlor,  moved  toward  the  door 
loading  into  the  passage. 

"Stay,"  said  Mr.  Fleetwood,  speaking  to  Mrs. 
Weir  "  Don't  go  yet !" 


308        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


If  he  had  said  "  Go,"  instead,  she  could  not  have 
shown  a  greater  willingness  to  depart. 

"John!"  Mr.  Fleetwood  called  for  the  waiter, 
in  a  loud,  imperative  voice. 

That  was  enough.  Mrs.  Weir's  alarm  was  com 
plete,  and  she  fled  precipitately  from  the  house. 

A  few  days  afterward  Mr.  Fleetwood  visited  the 
neighborhood  in  which  she  had  lived,  but  found  her 
house  vacant,  and  "To  Let"  on  the  door. 

The  task  before  Miss  Harper  was  no  light  one. 
It  required  more  than  a  single  victory  over  the  evil 
spirits  who  had  gained,  through  disorderly  rites, 
power  in  the  child's  mind,  to  dispossess  them. 
Scarcely  a  day  passed  in  which  Madeline  did  not 
relapse  into  moody  states  or  show  a  strangely  per 
verse  will.  Patience,  gentleness,  loving-kindness, 
all  were  brought  into  exercise ;  and  sometimes  the 
contest  would  be  long  and  painful.  But  always  the 
angel  proved  stronger  than  the  demon,  and  the  tried 
spirit  of  the  child  arose,  through  divine  aid,  superior 
to  its  foes. 

As  weeks  and  months  glided  onward,  the  old 
tranquil  states  returned,  and  the  gentlest  and  sweet 
est  of  all  the  children  was  restored  to  herself  again, 
— stood  clothed  and  in  her  right  mind.  Mrs.  Dainty, 
from  whose  eyes  the  veil  had  fallen,  now  saw  the 
character  of  Florence  in  its  true  light.  There  had 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.        309 


been  no  intrusions  upon  her  selfish  pride,  no  humi 
liating  concessions  required.  A  quiet  dignity  and 
gentle  reserve  had  marked  the  conduct  of  Miss 
Harper  from  the  hour  their  new  relation  began. 
Instead  of  having  to  throw  up  barriers  against  the 
too  familiar  approaches  of  an  unwelcome  inmate, 
Mrs.  Dainty  soon  found  that  she  must  court,  if  she 
would  have,  equal  intercourse. 

With  an  easy  grace  and  unobtrusive  self-posses 
sion,  Miss  Harper  took  her  place  as  one  of  the 
family.  Before  a  year  had  passed,  even  Mrs. 
Dainty  had  learned  to  confide  in  her  discretion,  to 
defer  to  her  judgment  in  all  things  relating  to  the 
children,  and  to  regard  her  as  a  true  friend.  Mr. 
Fleetwood  looked  on,  a  happier  man  than  he  had 
been  for  many  years.  No  tenderer  love  for  a 
daughter  was  ever  born  in  a  father's  heart  than  that 
which  he  felt  for  the  child  of  his  adoption.  And  he 
was  very  proud  of  her.  As  she  gradually  passed 
into  the  refined  and  intelligent  circles  that  opened 
spontaneously  to  receive  her,  and  there  became  an 
object  of  unconscious  attraction,  the  old  man  looked 
on  with  a  swelling  heart,  while  admiration  blended 
with  love  and  pride.  And  yet  he  loved  her  best  of 
all  for  the  daily  duties  through  which  she  passed 
with  such  an  earnest  self-devotion.  He  saw  the 
children  of  his  weak,  vain,  worldly-minded  niece 


A 


310        THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON. 


growing  daily  more  and  more  like  their  guide,  com 
panion,  and  friend.  He  had  loved  them  from  the 
beginning  for  their  childish  innocence  and  affection, 
but  love  took  now  a  deeper  tone,  and  gathered 
strength  and  emotion  from  the  beauty  of  goodness 
that  daily  blossomed  in  their  lives,  the  sweet  presage 
of  fruit  in  sunny  autumn. 

Of  Mrs.  Jeckyl  no  more  was  seen  or  heard.  She 
vanished  like  an  evil  spirit  when  the  sun-rays  of 
truth  stream  down  through  the  rifted  clouds  of 
error.  The  shadow  of  her  presence  had  left  a  blight 
on  the  earth ;  but  warm  sunshine  and  gentle  dews 
made  the  soil  fruitful  again,  and  good  seeds,  planted 
by  careful  hands,  soon  shot  up  the  tender  blade  and 
covered  the  desert  place  with  greenness.  Mrs. 
"Weir  came  not  again.  The  warning  of  conse 
quences  had  thoroughly  alarmed  her,  and  Adele 
was  permitted  to  remain  under  the  wise,  religious 
care  of  Mrs.  Elder.  Very  deeply  had  her  young  life 
been  disturbed  by  the  disorderly  influences  to  which 
she  had  been  subjected  in  her  mother's  house;  and 
there  were  times  when  the  evil  spirits  who  had  gained 
access  to  her  mind  found  some  of  the  old  avenues 
unguarded,  and  flowed  in  with  their  sphere  of  error, 
invading  even  the  outer  citadel  of  natural  and  cor 
poreal  life.  But  Mrs.  Elder  knew  wherein  lay  the 
power  of  exorcism.  She  knew  that  as  she  filled 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  DEMON.         311 


the  mind  of  Adele  full,  as  it  were,  of  the  precepts 
and  narratives  of  the  Divine  Word  which  was  "  in 
the  beginning,"  which  was  "with  God,"  and  which 
"  was  God,"  she  would  succeed  in  casting  out  the 
spirits  who  sought  to  rule  her,  and  set  her  freed 
soul  upon  the  Rock  of  Eternal  Ages.  She  did  not 
labor  in  vain. 

And  so  good  triumphed.  The  Angel  was  stronger 
than  the  Demon.  The  human  souls  that  came  forth 
from  God,  with  God-given  freedom  of  will,  were 
restored  to  the  orderly  life  into  which  they  were 
created,  free,  as  reason  developed,  to  select,  un 
biassed  by  the  intrusion  of  disorderly  spiritual 
spheres,  the  paths  of  life  in  which  they  would  move 
through  the  world.  Without  such  rational  freedom, 
spiritual  regeneration  is  impossible  ;  and  any  thing 
that  disturbs  such  freedom  cannot  have  its  origin  in 
heaven.  So  we  read  the  doctrine  of  life ;  and,  so 
reading  it,  we  teach. 


THE    END. 


•TEREOTYPED  BY  L.  JOHKSON  ft  00. 
PHILADELPHIA. 


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SIX1TEE3ST 

IS   THB 


of  Soutl)  Hfrtctt 


This  is  a  work  of  thrilling  adventures  and  hair-breadth 
escapes  among  savage  beasts  and  more  savage  men.  Dr. 
Livingstone  was  alone,  and  unaided  by  any  white  man, 
traveling  with  African  attendants,  among  different  tribes 
and  nations,  all  strange  to  him,  and  many  of  them  hostile, 
and  altogether  forming  the  most  astonishing  book  of 
travels  the  world  has  ever  seen.  All  acknowledge  it  if 
the  most  readable  book  published.  Price  $1.25. 


NOTICES    OF    THB     PRESS. 

It  abound*  in  ascriptions  of  strange  and  wonderful  scenes,  among  a  peepfe  and  In  a 
eountry  entirely  new  to  the  civilized  world  ;  and  altogether  we  regard  it  ag  one  of  the 
most  interesting  books  issued  within  the  past  year.— Daily  Democrat,  Patturton,  AiM 
Jersey. 

The  subjects  treated  of  are  new  and  strange,  and  take  a  deep  hold  upon  popular  feel- 
Ing.  The  book  is  having  a  great  run,  and  will  be  read  by  every  reading  man,  womaa, 
and  child,  in  this  as  well  as  other  lands. — Ashtabvla  (Ohio)  Telegraph. 

Those  of  our  readers  who  would  have  a  delightful  book  for  reading  at  any  kour,  will 
Bot  be  disappointed  in  this  work. — Untied  States  Journal. 

This  interesting  work  should  be  in  the  hands  of  every  one.  Its  interesting  page*  of 
ad  ventures  are  full  of  instruction  and  amusement. — Auburn  American. 

With  truth  we  can  say,  that  seldom  is  presented  to  the  reading  public  a  work  com- 
taining  such  a  vast  amount  of  solid  instruction  as  the  one  in  question. — family  Jlagm> 
tine. 

It  is  a  rich  and  valuable  book  for  the  general  reader ;  and  the  admirable  style  in  which 
the  publisher  has  issued  it,  will  commend  it  to  the  favor  of  thousands. — Ohrittian 
Observer. 

This  is  a  valuable  work  for  the  general  reader,  gotten  up  in  beautiful  style.  A  special 
Interest  ii-  given  to  this  volume  by  the  addition  of  valuable  "  Historical  Notices  of  Dis 
coveries  in  Africa."  Altogether,  it  would  be  difficult  to  name  any  work  which  would 
more  completely  meet  the  popular  taste  of  our  day.  Those  of  our  friends  who  hav« 
perused  "our"  copy,  speak  very  highly  of  it. — Fort. Edward  Inst.  Monthly. 

The  present  volume  is  a  beautiful  12mo.,  of  446  pages,  numerously  illustrated,  and 
contains  all  of  'he  original,  except  some  of  the  more  dry,  scientific  details.  It  is  em 
phatically  an  edition  for  the  people ;  and,  Judging  from  the  rapid  sale  with  Whlek  U  Ifl 
Mtir-1-ff.  it  i*  fully  appreciated  by  them.— Cferirtw-,  .Freana*,  Soetnfo 


<  LIST   07   VALUABLE   AND   FOPULAfi   BOOKS. 

T.    S.    ARTHUR'S    WORKS. 

[The  following  List  of  Books  are  all  written  by  T.  S.  ARTHUR,  the 
well-known  author,  of  whom  it  has  been  said,  "that  dying  he  hat 
not  writttn  a  word  he  would  wish  to  erase."  They  are  all  gotten  up 
in  the  best  style  of  binding,  and  are  worthy  of  a  place  in  ev«rj 
household.]  

TEN   NIGHTS   IN   A   BAR-ROOM, 


This  powerfully- written  work,  one  of  the  best  by  its  popular  Author, 
kas  met  with  an  immense  sale — ten  thousand  copies  having  been 
ordered  within  a  month  of  publication.  It  is  a  large  12mo.,  illus 
trated  with  a  beautiful  Mezzotint  Engraving,  by  Sartain ;  printed 
on  fine  white  paper,  and  bound  in  the  best  English  muslin,  gilt 
back.  Price  $1.00. 


The  following  are  a  few  of  the  many  Notices  of  the  Press. 

Powerful  and  seasonable. — N.  Y.  Independent. 

Its  scenes  are  painfully  graphic,  and  furnish  thrilling  arguments  for  the  temperance 
cause. — Norton's  Literary  Gazette. 

Written  in  the  author's  most  forcible  and  rigorous  style. — Lehigh  Valley  Times. 

In  the  "Ten  Nights  in  a  Bar-Eoom,"  some  of  the  consequences  of  tavern-keeping,  th« 
"  sowing  of  the  wind"  and  " reaping  the  whirlwind,"  are  followed  by  a  "  fearful  con- 
Kjnmation,"  and  the  "closing  scene,"  presenting  pictures  of  fearful,  thrilling  interest. 
— Am.  Courier. 

There  is  no  exaggeration  in  these  pages — they  seem  to  have  been  filled  up  from  actual 
observation. — Philadelphia  Sun. 

We  hare  read  it  with  the  most  intense  interest,  and  commend  it  as  a  work  calculated 
to  do  an  immense  amount  of  good. — Lancaster  Express. 

We  wish  that  all  lovers  of  bar-rooms  and  rum  would  read  the  book.  It  will  pay  them 
richly  to  do  so. — If.  Y.  Northern  Blade. 

It  is  sufficient  commendation  of  this  little  volume  to  say  that  it  is  from  the  graphic 
pen  of  T.  S.  Arthur,  whose  works  will  be  read  and  reread  long  after  he  hag  passed 
away.  He  is  as  true  to  nature,  as  far  as  he  attempts  to  explore  it,  as  Shakspe*r« 
niraself;  and  his  works,  consequently,  have  an  immense  popularity. — New  Haven 
Palladium. 

There  are  many  scenes  unequaled  for  pathos  and  beauty.  The  death  of  little  Mary 
•an  scarcely  be  surpassed. — N.  Y.  Home  Journal. 


WHAT  CAN  WOMAN  DO? 

12mo.,  with  Mezzotint  Engraving, Price  $1.00 

Our  purpose  is  to  show,  In  a  series  of  life  pictures,  what  woman  can  do,  as  well  ft* 
nod  as  for  evil.  We  desire  to  bring  her  before  you  as  a  living  entity,  that  you  may  set 
k«r  M  she  is,  and  comprehend  in  some  small  degree  the  influence  she  wields  in  th« 
world's  progress  upward,  as  well  as  her  power  to  mar  the  human  soul  and  drag  it  down 
to  perdition,  w^en  h»i  own  spirit  is  darkened  by  eri!  r"uioB-  " — &'•>*«•«/•'  />v*»»  ««• 


LIST  OF  VALUABLE  AND  POPULAR  BOOKS. 
T.    S.    ARTHUR'S    "W  ORKS—  Continued. 


om, 

RELIGION    IN    COMMON    LIFE. 

Price, $1.00 

NOTICES     OF     THK      PRESS. 

It  panders  to  the  doctrines  and  tenet*  of  no  particular  sect,  and  will  be  found  an  excel 
lent  bock  to  place  in  the  hands  of  young  people. — Savannah  Georgian* 

It  is  a  work  well  calculated  to  do  good,  and  to  put  into  the  hands  of  (fce  youth  of  the 
country. — Enquirer. 

This  work  will  interest  the  reader,  and  at  the  came  time  teach  lessons  of  practical 
value.— Ch.  Messenger,  VI. 

It  is  designed  to  show  that  the  beauties  and  endearments  of  Christianity  are  to  be 
dereloped  amid  the  stern  realities  of  every-day  life. —  Vermont  Meitenger. 

It  is  a  timely  and  good  book,  and  should  be  widely  read,  especially  by  young  Chris 
tians  —Central  Oh.  Herald,  Cincinnati. 

Mr.  Arthur  is  already  well  known  as  an  earnest  man,  whose  object  has  been  to  do 
his  part  in  spreading  the  doctrines  and  teachings  of  the  Christian  religion  ;  and  in  tke 
present  volume  he  urges  the  necessity  of  charity,  and  endeavors  to  impress  upon  the 
reader  the  fact  that  religion  is  for  daily  life,  "and  cannot  be  put  aside  at  the  tranquil 
close  of  Sabbath  evenings." — Courier  and  Enquirer. 

More  decidedly  religious  in  its  character  than  Arthur'!  other  works,  though  it  if 
neither  doctrinal  nor  sectarian. — Ch.  Times,  Chicago. 

The  pen  of  T.  S.  Arthur  never  tires.  In  this  new  volume,  we  preceive  that  he  ia 
still  laboring  s  nccessfully  in  producing  brief  stories,  the  aim  of  which  is  moral.  He 
says  truly,  when  he  declares  that  "no  special  theology  is  taught  in  this  volume,"  by 
which  he  means,  we  suppose,  that  controverted  dogmas  are  not  introduced.  His  main 
point  is,  "Religion,  to  be  of  any  real  use  to  a  man,  must  come  down  into  all  his.  daily 
duties,  and  regulate  his  actions  by  a  divine  standard.1' — Exeter  Newt  Letter. 

No  special  theology  is  taught  in  this  volume.  It  addresses  itself  to  no  particular  s&ot 
or  denomination.  It  has  no  aim  but  to  assist  men  to  grow  better,  and  thence,  happier.— 
Salem  Gazette. 

Arthur  ha*  produced  few  more  satisfactory  books  than  this. — Aflat  and  See. 


THE  HAND  WITHOUT  THE  HEART; 

OB, 

THE  LIFE  TRIALS  OF  JESSIE  LORING. 
Price, fl-00 

The  point  of  this  story  is  expressed  in  the  title ;  and  the  story  itself  is  a  sharply  drawn 
illustration  of  the  folly  and  madness  of  linking  together  two  immortal  souls  by  the 
rough  chains  of  selfish  interest,  pride,  or  baser  passion.  The  lesson  taught  is  one  of 
daep  significance ;  and  thousands  of  hearts  will  throb  in  almost  wild  response,  to  the 
lifa  experiences  of  Jessie  Loring,  who  in  all  the  bitter  trials  of  her  unhappy  union, 
swerved  not  a  hair's  breadth  from  honor,  principle,  or  religions  duty,  though  temptation 
came  in  its  most  alluring  shape.  Ar  the  type  of  a  true  woman,  she  is  worthy  to  be 
embalmed  in  the  memory  of  every  reader. — Southern  Argut. 


TIB  TOMS  MDl  AT  HOME. 

«ool».  in  on*.  -      •      *         i.V*  •"•-  -•'     -      Price,  $i  00 


10       LIST  OF  VALUABLE  AND  POPULAR  BOOKS. 

T.    8.    ARTHUR'S    WORKS—  Continued. 


ARTHUR'S  SKETCHES 

LIFE   AND   GH1R1QTBR. 

An  octavo  volume  of  over  400  pages,  beautifully  Illustrated,  an 
bound  in  the  best  English  muslin,  gilt.     Price  $2.00. 


NOTICES    OF    THE    PRESS. 

The  present  Tolume,  containing  more  than  four  hundred  finely-printed  octayo  pages, 
la  illustrated  by  splendid  engraviugH,  and  made  particularly  valuable  to  those  who  like 
to  "see  the  face  of  him  they  talk  withal,"  by  a  correct  likeness  of  the  author,  finely  en 
graved  on  steel. — N«uVs  Gazette. 

In  the  princely  mansions  of  the  Atlantic  merchants,  and  in  the  rude  log  cabins  of  the 
backwoodsmen,  the  name  of  Arthur  is  equally  known  and  cherished  as  the  friend  of 
vittue. — Graham's  Magazine. 

We  would  not  exchange  our  copy  of  these  sketches,  with  Its  story  of  "  The  Methodist 
Preacher,"  for  anyone  of  the  gilt-edged  and  embossed  Annuals  which  we  have  yet  seen. 
—Lady's  National  Magazine. 

The  first  story  in  the  volume,  entitled  "  The  Methodist  Preacher,  or  nights  and 
f  hailows  in  the  Life  of  an  Itinerant,"  is  alone  worth  the  price  of  the  work. — Evening 
Bulletin. 

It  is  emphatically  a  splendid  work. — Middletown  Whig. 

It*  worth  and  cheapness  should  place  it  in  every  person's  hands  who  desires  to  read 
an  interesting  book. — Odd  Fellow,  Soonsboro'. 

"  The  Methodist  Preacher,"  "  Seed-Time  and  Harvest,"  "  Dyed  in  the  Wool,"  are  fuU 
>f  truth  as  well  as  instruction,  and  any  one  of  them  is  worth  the  whole  price  of  th« 
Tolume. — Lowell  Day-star,  Rev.  D.  C.  Eddy,  Editor. 

There  Is  a  fascination  about  these  sketches  which  so  powerfully  interests  the  reader, 
that  few  who  commence  one  of  them  will  part  with  it  till  it  is  concluded ;  and  they  will 
bear  reading  repeatedly. — Norfolk  and  Portsmouth  Herald. 

Those  who  have  not  perused  these  model  stories  have  a  rich  feast  in  waiting,  and  w« 
•hall  be  happy  if  we  can  be  instrumental  in  pointing  them  to  it. — Family  Visitor, 
Xadiftnn,  Ga. 

No  library  for  family  reading  should  be  considered  complete  without  this  volume, 
which  is  as  lively  and  entertaining  in  its  character,  as  it  is  salutary  in  its  influence. — 
V.  Y.  Tribune. 

The  work  is  beautifully  illustrated.  Those  who  are  at  all  acquainted  with  Arthnr'f 
Writings  need  hardly  be  told  that  the  present  work  is  a  prize  to  whoever  possesses  it.— 
If.  T.  Sun. 

We  know  no  better  book  for  the  table  of  any  family,  whether  regarded  for  its  ne» 
•xterior  or  valuable  contents. —  Vox  Popult,  Lowell. 

The  name  of  the  author  is  in  itself  a  sufficient  recommendation  of  the  work. — Law 
rence  Sentinel. 

T.  8.  Arthur  it  one  of  the  best  literary  writers  of  the  age.— Watchman,  CircleoilU 
Mfe 

The  name  alone  of  the  author  is  a  sufficient  guarantee  to  the  reading  public  of  its  suf 
passing  merit. — The  Argus  Gallatin,  Miss. 

Probably  he  has  not  written  a  line  which,  dying,  he  could  wish  to  erase. — Parlctrt 
fctry  (Fa.)  Gatette. 


THE    WITHERED     HEART. 

12mo.,  with  fine  Mezzotint   Frontispiece.     Cloth Price  $1.0C 

Thii  work  has  gone  through  several  editions  in  England  although 
published  but  a  few  weeks,  and  has  had  the  most  flattering  notices 
!••«  th«  English  Press. 


LIST   OF    VALUABLE   AND   POPULAB   BOOKS.  I/ 

T.    S.    ARTHUR'S    WO  RKS—  Continued. 


fights  anb  Sjjriuttos  of  $tal  lift. 

With  an  Autobiography  and  Portrait  of  the  Author.      Over  fir* 
hundred  pages,  octavo,  with  fine  tinted  Engravings.     Price  $2.00. 

NOTICES     OF     THE     PRESS. 

In  this  Tolume  may  be  found  a  "moral  suasion,"  which  cannot  but  «ffert  for  goo4 
til  who  read.  The  mechanical  execution  of  the  work  is  very  beautiful  throughout.— 
y«u>  Haven  Palladium. 

It  i*  by  far  the  most  valuable  book  ever  published  of  his  works,  inasmuch  as  it  Is  en 
riched  with  a  very  interesting,  though  brief  autobiography. — American  Courier. 

No  family  library  is  complete  without  a  copy  of  this  boik. — Scott'*  Weekly  Paper. 

No  better  or  worthier  present  could  be  made  to  the  young ;  no  offering  more  pure, 
charitable,  and  practicable  could  be  tendered  to  those  who  are  interested  in  the  truly 
Benevolent  reforms  of  the  day. — Oodey's  Lady's  Book. 

The  paper,  the  engravings,  the  binding,  and  the  literary  contents,  are  all  calculated 
to  make  it  a  favorite. — Penn.  Inquirer. 

This  volume  cannot  be  too  highly  recommended. — .2V.  T.  Tribune. 

More  good  has  been  effected,  than  by  any  other  single  medium  that  we  know  of.— 
A:  ¥.  Sun. 

The  work  should  be  upon  the  centre-table  of  every  parent  In  the  land.— 
Temperance  Magazine. 


LEAVES  FROM  THE  BOOK  OF  HUMAN  LIFE 

Large  12mo.    With  Thirty  Illustrations  and  Steel  Plate.    Price  $1.00 

.4  single  story  Is  worth  the  price  charged  for  the  book. — Union,  Neioburyport,  Matt 
"  It  includes  some  of  the  best  humorous  sketches  of  the  author." 


I  The  following  Books  are  bound  in  uniform  style  as  "ARTHUR'8 
COTTAGE  LIBRARY,"  and  are  sold  in  sets,  or  separately,  each 
volume  being  complete  in  itself.  Each  volume  is  embellished 
with  a  fine  Mezzotint  Engraving.] 


TO    IPIROSIPIEIR. 

AND     OTHER    TALES. 
Cloth,  12mo.,  with  Mezzotint  Engraving,  .....................  Price  $1.00 


TRUE  RICHES;  OR,  WEALTH  WITHOUT  WINGS. 

AND     OTHER    TALES. 
Cloth,  12mo.,  with  Mezzotint  Engraving, Price  $1.00 


ANGEL   OF  THE  HOUSEHOLD. 

AND    OTHER    TALES. 
Oleth,  12mo.,  witL  Mezzotint  Engraving, ,.  Priee  $1  00 


t2  USX   OF    VALUABLE   AND   FOFTTLAB   BOOKS. 

T.    S.    ARTHUR'S    W  0  R  K  S—  Continued. 


GOLDEN  GRAMS  FROM  LIFE'S  HARVEST-FIELD, 

Bound  in  gilt  back  and  sides,  sheep,  with  a  beautiful  Mezzotint  En- 
graTing.     12mo.     Price  $1.00. 

NOTICES    OF    THE    PRESS. 

It  Is  not  too  much  to  say,  that  the  Golden  Grains  here  presented  to  the  reader,  ar« 
inch  as  will  be  productive  of  a  far  greater  amount  of  human  happiness  than  those  in 
search  of  which  so  many  are  willing  to  risk  domestic  peace,  health,  and  even  life  itself 
In  a  distant  and  inhospitable  region. 

These  narratives,  like  all  of  those  which  proceed  from  th«  same  able  pen,  are  re 
markable  not  only  for  their  entertaining  and  lively  pictures  of  actual  life,  but  for  their 
admirable  moral  tendency. 

It  is  printed  in  excellent  style,  and  embellished  with  a  mezzotint  engraving.  We 
•ordially  recommend  it  to  the  favor  of  oar  readers. — Godey's  Lady's  Magazine. 


rs   |)0me 

fThe  following  four  volumes  contain  nearly  500  pages,  Illustrated 
with  fine  Mezzotint  Engravings.  Bound  in  the  best  manner,  and 
sold  separately  or  in  sets.  They  have  been  introduced  into  the 
District,  Sabbath-school,  and  other  Libraries,  and  are  considered 
one  of  the  best  series  of  the  author.] 

THREE    ERAS    IN    A    WOMAN'S    LIFE. 

Containing    MAIDEN,  WIFE,  and    MOTHER. 

Cloth,  12mo.,  with  Mezzotint  Engraving, Price  $1.00 

"This,  by  many,  Is  considered  Mr.  Arthur's  best  work." 

TALES    OF    MARRIED    LIFE. 

Containing  LOVERS  and   HUSBANDS,  SWEETHEARTS   and 
•WIVES,  and  MARRIED   and   SINGLE. 

Cloth,  12mo.,  with  Mezzotint  Engraving, Price  $1.00. 

"  In  this  volume  may  be  found  some  valuable  hints  for  wives  and  husbands,  as  wel 
M  the  young." 

TALES    OF    DOMESTIC    LIFE. 

Containing    MADELINE,     THE     HEIRESS,    THE     MARTYR 
WIFE,  and  RUINED    GAMESTER. 

Cloth,  12mo.,  with  Mezzotint  Engraving, Price  $1.00. 

"Contains  several  sketches  of  thrilling  interest." 

TALES    OF    REAL    LIFE. 

Containing  BELL.  MARTIN,  PRIDE    and  PRINCIPLE,  MART 
ELLIS,  FAMILY  PIIIDE,  and  ALICE  MELVILLE. 

Cloth,  12mo.,  with  Mezzotint  Engraving, , Price  $1.0& 

'•  iTiis  volume  gives  the  experiences  of  real  life  by  nutuy  who  found  not  their  ideal. 


LIST   OF   VALUABLE   AND   POPULAR   BOOKS.  13 

T     S.   ARTHUR'S  'WORKS—  Continued. 


A    BOOK    OF    STARTLING    INTEREST. 


TH1  mmi  AND  TH1  DEMON. 

A  handsome  12mo.  volume.    Price  $1.00 


In  tliis  exciting  story  Mr.  AETHUB  has  taken  hold  of  the  reader'g 
attention  with  a  more  than  usually  vigorous  grasp,  and  keeps  him 
absorbed  to  the  end  of  the  volume.  The  book  is  one  of  START 
LING  INTEREST.  Its  lessons  should  be 

IN  THE  HEART  OF  EVERY  MOTHER. 

Onward,  with  a  power  of  demonstration  that  makes  conviction  a 
necessity,  the  Author  sweeps  through  his  subject,  fascinating  at 
every  step.  In  the  union  of 

THEILLING  DEAMATIC  INCIDENT, 

with  moral  lessons  of  the  highest  importance,  this  volume  stands 
forth  pre-eminent  among  the  author's  many  fine  productions. 

NOTICES     OF    THE    PRESS. 

A  story  of  much  power,  imbued  with  that  excellent  moral  and  religious  spirit  which 
pervades  all  his  writings.— N.  Y.  Chronicle. 

This  volume  is  among  his  best  productions,  and  worthy  of  a  place  on  every  centre- 
table. — Clarion,  Pa.,  Banner. 

This  is  a  most  fascinating  book,  one  which  the  reader  will  find  it  quite  hard  to  l»y 
»iide  without  reading  to  the  last  page.— Albany,  N.  Y.,  Journal  and  Courier. 


THE    GOOD    TIME    COMING. 

Large  12mo.,  with  fine  Mezzotint  Frontispiece, Price  $1.00 

It  is  like  every  thing  emanating  from  that  source — worth  reading. — Toledo  Blade. 
It  1»  characterized  b,  %11  the  axceUeneiw  of  hii  style.  "—Phila.  Bulletin. 
It  Is  a  book  the  most  jcrupnlous  parent  jaty  jl*«*  la  *.•  hand  of  hii  child. — Pr»»  > 
<t*n<x  Trwntcript. 


14 


LIST   OP   VALUABLE   AND   POPULAR   BOOKS. 


T.    S.    ARTHUR'S    W  0  R  K S—  Continued. 


The  Old  Man's  Bride, Price  $1.00 

Heart  Histories  and  Life  Pictures,    -       "     1.00 

Sparing  to  Spend;  or,  The  Loftons  and 
Pinkertons, "      1.0 

Home  Scenes, u     1.0 


OF 


Two  vols.  in  one.    By  Gen.  S.  P.  LYMAN.    Price  $1.03. 

EXTRACT  FROM  PREFACE. 

The  Personal  Memorials,  which  compose  BO  large  a  portion  of 
these  volumes,  are  from  the  pen  of  Gen.  8.  P.  Lyman,  whose  inti 
mate  and  confidential  relations  with  Mr.  Webster  afford  a  sufficient 
guarantee  for  their  authenticity.  They  are  believed  by  the  publisher 
to  embrace  a  more  copious  collection  of  original  and  interesting 
memoranda,  concerning  the  life  and  character  of  the  great  States 
man  whose  recent  death  has  created  so  deep  a  sense  of  bereavement 
throughout  the  country,  than  has  hitherto  been  given  to  the  world 


COOK'S  WTUB  BOUND  THE  WORLD. 


Two  yolumes  in  one, 


Price  $1.00 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


1961 


REC 

LC 


AM 
7-4 


-URl 


1965 


PM 
-  1O 


Form  L9-17Jn-8,'55(B3339s4)444 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A    001372720    1 


i: 


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